


Liquid Diamonds

by avgust



Series: Through the Ages [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Elven politics, Healing, Injury, Last Alliance of Elves and Men, M/M, Political Alliances, Second Age, Seduction, Slow Burn, War, political divides, violance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 133,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9173878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avgust/pseuds/avgust
Summary: Set during the second age, Glorfindel is sent to the Greenwood to request an alliance with Oropher. He runs into a stubborn king, and his eccentric son. Along the way, Glorfindel learns the secrets of Greenwood Forest, including all the challenges and unexpected adventures that he must face before he even debates with Oropher about an elven alliance.Warning, this story has a detailed description of violence .Part 2 of the series Through the Ages:This is the second story in the series Through the Ages. You do not need to read the first story in this series to understand this story.





	1. But If I Must...

Surrender, this is where Glorfindel now found himself, running his fingers through silver silken strands, kissing full luscious lips, staring into deep emerald eyes full of such passion and desire. Such madness…..

_______________________

(Imladris: Second Age. A few years before the call for alliance.)

"Glorfindel." Elrond beseeched him, but his stern gaze conveyed this request was not open to debate. "You shall depart at the crack of dawn for the great forest Kingdom. Gil-galad is requesting this plan be carried through with King Oropher's realm, for the time may come when we will need to call on the elves of Greenwood."

'Greenwood. King Oropher.' Glorfindel pondered the words and the task that Elrond had spent the better part of the morning discussing with his counsellors, surprised it was he whom Elrond called upon to deliver the messages and request a closer alliance with King Oropher.

"But would not counsellor Erestor be a better choice for this request?" Glorfindel could feel Erestor's grey eyes burning on him, as if the distant counsellor was annoyed that it was he who had been called on for this task instead of him. But if that were the case, Erestor remained silent, not protesting or questioning the choice that Gil-galad had made.

"Our High-King has requested you, Glorfindel, to make the journey to Greenwood and meet with King Oropher." Elrond's bright eyes seemed to brim with encouragement to the unsure Glorfindel.

"Of course. I will heed Gil-galad's wishes and deliver his request of alliance to Greenwood." Glorfindel's brows narrowed, as he turned the request over in his mind, still perplexed that it was him whom they called on.

"Good. The necessary documents and letters will be delivered to your chambers within the hour. Please make haste and pack. Get your rest, for the journey will be far." Elrond then turned from Glorfindel to continue discussing the preparations with Erestor, leaving Glorfindel alone to ponder.

"I have never meet King Oropher or been to the Greenwood before." Glorfindel expressed his misgivings aloud. He knew little of Oropher who distanced himself from the other realms. On his return to Middle-Earth, Erestor and Elrond had told him of the new elven realms forged after all the blood-shed of the First Age. How some time after the fall of Doriath and residing in Lindon, Oropher had decided to move his household over the Misty Mountains and had been taken as a king over the Silvan elves deep in the heart of that great forest.

"We all have faith in your ability to see this through. Be persistent. The elves of Greenwood are wary of outsiders, even of the elvish variety." Elrond clearly deemed it best not to state anything more to Glorfindel. And Glorfindel thought that it would be better to go without any preconceived biases towards Oropher.

Nothing more was said after that, just reassuring looks from his cohorts that wished him luck and safety on his journey across the mountains and forests.

And then he was off. Dawn broke after a sleepless night during which restful dreams did not find him. He left the gates of Imladris, not weary but driven by his love of challenge, and an enthusiasm for adventure. Elrond had seen him off at the crack of dawn, providing a few more details to help him. Not much had been said about Oropher or his realm, just a little about his Thranduil. Elrond mentioned he should find an ally in Thranduil. He knew not what to expect or what challenges would present themselves when he finally would meet Oropher.

The day was not overly welcoming. A heavy fog refused to dissipate from the earth, enveloping the forest that would soon give way to the rocky plains that stood at the edge of the Misty Mountains.

And once the fog had cleared, he was greeted by a sky dark with thick clouds of grey billowy masses with soaring heads that stubbornly refused to let the sun break through. Glorfindel wondered if rain would come, as the metallic aroma of it filled his senses. But despite the threat of the angry clouds, there was no downpour, much to his relief. He didn't want the hindrance of rain, as he hoped to cover as much distance as he could, pressing ever eastward towards the realm of Greenwood the Great.

A persistent wind came from the north-east and stung at his face and ears as he rode. He pulled his hooded cloak around his frame tighter, riding hard to put as much distance between Imladris and himself as he could. The road was still vast before him and contained many dangers. He knew to stay vigilant while ever pressing forward.

When finally the day was some hours old, he paused for a midday meal, letting his horse take water. Glorfindel surveyed the lands, knowing that his path would take him over the mountains, which would be slow and treacherous. But he was skilled in travel and trod with a light foot.

When the night descended on him, he made camp, letting his steed rest although he needed none. As he lay under the starless night sky, shrouded still by dark clouds, he tried to picture the forest he would travel to. He wondered what the ancient and reclusive elves that lived there were like. He wondered what songs they sang, what ancient spirit moved them and kept them steadfast within their distant forest. He tried to picture Oropher, with all his mithril hair and obstinate face and wondered just how weary his soul was with all the death and bloodshed of the First Age. But with what little he knew of Oropher, his mind drew nothing but a blank.

He continued to let his mind go through his deepest memories, trying to recall the ancient Doriathrin tongue of King Thingol's realm, wondering if Oropher still spoke those words, or communicated only in the tongue of his Silvan subjects. It was an ancient tongue, predating Sindarin and mostly forgotten except for those of the Avari, who dwelt deep in the heart of their distant forest.

'Such a mystery awaits me.' He spun the questions in his mind, until finally sleep called to Glorfindel, who despite all his thoughts, now felt the tug of weariness pulling him deep into its folds.

He dreamt of an arcane forest. He was standing in it naked as the day he was born. His long hair dripped with cool water. Droplets like rain fell to the mossy earth below, echoing like shards of crystal ringing through the air. He did not feel uncomfortable, but instead felt his spirit soar free, deep into the forest, far past giant trees and mountains upon mountains. And he was running; his bare feet glided over the moss and leaf covered forest floor, dashing after someone that danced just ahead of him in a stream of silver silk.

Greenwood was calling to him. He could hear the words of the trees echo through his mind, whispering to him with strange temptation. Bright green leaves shining forth like emeralds twinkled under the glow of Ithil's strong light, casting an eerie illumination that lit the forest in its  
preternatural beauty. And in his dream he froze, seeing the emeralds blink between long elven lashes set in an alabaster face framed with mithril locks. The impression slowly faded with the darkening forest which the phantom belonged to, and his sleep became dreamless once more.

The morning broke, but Glorfindel was already well on his way when the rays of Anor had cut through the dawn. He had awoken from his dream feeling light and refreshed, eager to continue eastward, wondering just who had cast that dream into his mind. Did the Greenwood harbour dark magic? A conjurer of temptation? Glorfindel felt moved, wanting to discover the lull that the forest had shown him in his dream.

With great care he led his horse gently across the mountains, treading lightly, but still keeping good time. The Greenwood was beyond the Misty Mountains but Glorfindel knew that a great few days still stood between him and that realm. The new day was much more hospitable than the prior day, with a bright sun warming the land, and gentle clouds rolling across the sky in their slight dance above the earth. They painted long shadows down the mountain side that rolled down as silent waterfalls.

Glorfindel took all the sights in, watching from time to time the great birds that soared above him, the whispering breezes and soaring peaks that encompassed him. Arda was beautiful, this he could never deny. And he felt gratitude to the Valar who had allowed him to return back, although he was still unsure as to why he had been sent back to middle earth instead of the Undying Lands.  
But the Valar always had a purpose, and who was he to question?

The second night, he found a small crevice in which to camp. The howl of the night wind was ruthless to his ears, and his horse did not want to take rest. With his gentle Elvish words, he soothed the beast to sleep, knowing that it needed rest this night. Glorfindel was not weary, and decided not to take sleep through the night. He kept his clear blue eyes alert, knowing that mountains could be ever treacherous. This journey was not without peril. Sauron's evil was alive in Arda, and everyone knew, traveling alone was a risky business.

For the remainder of his trip, Glorfindel took in the sights, while keeping his watch. He spoke to his horse, singing him songs he had learned from his days in Gondolin, ancient words that had been passed down from the journey to Aman and time spent with the exiles. And when he did not want to sing any longer, he constructed in his mind the words he would speak to Oropher, trying his best to rehearse exactly what he would say.

The days of his travel ebbed and flowed in a similar fashion, until his trip was finally exhausted. Glorfindel had finally found himself staring at the very cusp of Greenwood forest, whose expansive girth stretched as far as his eyes could see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re uploading some old stories. This story has not been beta read all the way through. So sorry for the mistakes. 
> 
> chapter 1 beta read by pippychick
> 
> The title of this story and the chapter titles are taken from the Tori Amos song, Liquid Diamonds.
> 
> Set during the 2nd age, before the war of the ring. Prequel to the Dance on Water. This story is A/U of course, I am not using exact dates and this deviates from canon significantly to fit the purpose of my story. The facts, dates and details are not meant to reflect canon with 100% accuracy.
> 
> In this alternate universe the elves of Greenwood still speak a dialect of Nandorin (Silvan) and have not yet switched over to Sindarin. I would believe, although a disappearing language, that Greenwood would be the very last realm to have speakers of it as it was dying out in the S.A. The Sindar in the realm converse amongst themselves in the Doriathrin dialect, since they came from that realm, and not so much the Greenwood Silvan. With Glorfindel they speak the standard Sindarin from the second-age. Galion and the Silvan elves who work closely with Oropher and the Sindar have learned the language of their King, however most business is conducted in the Silvan tongue of the Greenwood elves since Oropher's goal was to become as one with his people.
> 
> Dates in S.A.: 1697 Imladris was founded, and around that time the Greenwood Elves had moved to the western glens of the Emyn Duir from Amon Lanc. In the year 1701, the War of the Elves and Sauron ended. This story is set during the 2nd Age, after the War of the Elves and Sauron had ended, and after Glorfindel's return to middle earth, but of course before the Last Alliance was fought. I really did not pick an exact date for this story however, but wanted to give a general time-line for the S.A.
> 
> In the UT, it states that Oropher, in his wisdom, understood that no peace would come until Sauron was destroyed, and so gathered a great army together with Lothlorien to join the call of the alliance. Whether he came on this idea of his own accord or with convincing was not so much explicitly stated, so I am taking the liberty for this story to be with the later, that he needed convincing and hence this story.


	2. You'll Know Quite Soon

The Greenwood stood before him. The forest's essence was heavy with all the years of the ages, an ancient living coppice that guarded its secrets well yet was tantalizing enough to ensnarl whomever gazed upon it with all of its mystique. To Glorfindel's eyes, the expansive forest seemed to stretch as mighty as any great sea, filling the land with its endless timbers. Tall ancient trees towered as watch guards at the entrance of the realm, imposing giants whose height was nothing Glorfindel had seen outside of Lorien. He instantly knew that this forest was like no other in all of Arda, as if the trees themselves could cast enchantments; trapping whomever passed into their bowels. Pushing his far seeing elvish eyes to scan the distance before him, he could scarcely make out the mountains that jutted above the sea of green in the far distance.

Emyn Duir, he knew the hills' and mountains' name to be. Far in the western glades they stood, just at the edge of those mountains in the heart of King Oropher's realm. Glorfindel could almost imagine its magnificence, upstaging even the glorious forest of Greenwood. The imposing capital beckoned to Glorfindel, leaving an imagined impression in his mind.

Taking a deep breath, Glorfindel passed under the tall trees that towered at the edge of the forest. He was within the Greenwood, and the air seemed to instantly change around him. Scents of the leaves, of the ferns and moss filled his senses, delighting him and enticing him to keep moving forward. Dark green leaves shaded the sun and they rustled in the slight wind that was blowing from the north. Delightful shadows danced across the forest floor, the canopy not yet so dense on the edge of the forest, as to block the sunlight from filtering down. Glorfindel felt at peace within this forest, and an excitement like a lure called to him from beyond.

The path he traveled on was long and winding, and Glorfindel knew that it would lead straight to Oropher's Halls. He recalled the map that Elrond had shared with him before he had left for this journey, and he calculated that he would be at Oropher's kingdom by the end of the next day.

As he rode down the path, Glorfindel from time to time, would let his eyes look around him, and he would marvel at what he saw. The trees seemed to grow larger, and their leaves were as big as his hand, dancing above him within the soothing breezes. Colorful leaves rolled before him on the path, and the moss and ferns relaxed him with their sweet and woody aromas. A strong desire welled within him to just stop and wander around the forest, so that he could take in all of its beauty. But he knew that he did not have the leisure in which to do so. He needed to keep pressing forward.

The day passed far too quickly. Once night had settled on the forest, Glorfindel had to stop his journey, fearing injury to his horse on this unknown path. He settled down in a comfortable spot, just below a wide tree of oak, whose long and low branches made a perfect canopy above him. The forest here was dense, and no stars could he see within the darkening night.

Even though the forest was dark around him, Glorfindel had no fear. The forest seemed to whisper words of a calming serenade, easing Glorfindel's mind and nerves. Fireflies danced around him, and the leaves continued their beautiful symphony. He had no fear this night, and he even drifted into a restful sleep, where he dreamed that same tempting dream that had come to him that one night, not so long ago.

Morning broke slowly in the Greenwood, for the light of Anor could barely penetrate to the forest's floor. But Glorfindel found the eerie dawn beautiful in its otherworldliness, as a dense fog clung around the trees, obscuring the path before him.

Glorfindel tread carefully, not too sure just what was underfoot the fog that kept the path hidden from him. But despite the foreign land he found himself in, he had no apprehensions beyond his own captivation with the beautiful forest that was transforming before his eyes. More light began filtering down from the forest's covering, and the fog slowly began to dissipate.

The forest had awoken, and Glorfindel could hear it calling out to him. Bright green leaves seemed to illuminate as the beams of Anor washed upon them. He breathed the essence of the forest in, and then he closed his eyes, letting his mind form the images from his dream, of the glistening emerald eyes and shining silver hair, and the whispers of the forest that had called out to his soul.

And he was surrounded when he finally opened his eyes. A pair of deep emerald eyes were fixated on his own, as if the image from his mind had materialized into the phantom that was before him. Commands in an ancient elvish tongue were given from a voice that Glorfindel knew could move any elf or man. Words that moved and stirred Glorfindel like no other voice had done before were perceived by his ears, but his mind could make no sense of them. The surrounding elves moved back from the mithril figure, their bows turned down, but ready if ever the one who stood before him were to give his command.

"Welcome to the Greenwood, stranger from afar."

A voice of pure silk rolled from his lips, perfectly speaking the Sindarin tongue, thick however, with a Doriathrin accent.

"Who are you and what brings you to our forest?" His piercing gaze held steadfast on Glorfindel. His long hair gently danced in the wind.

"Greetings." Glorfindel bowed his head respectfully to the one before him. He could tell this one was someone of importance, with emerald eyes and long silver hair, a striking resemblance of the premonition from his dream. He wondered if he could be Oropher, or perhaps was one of his household. He wondered if it were he who had cast that dream into his mind, until he yearned to set foot in the forest, else no peace would ever find his soul again.

"I am Glorfindel of Imladris. I bring to King Oropher some correspondences and as such request an audience with his lordship."

Glorfindel expected a rude or hostile reception now that this Wood-elf knew that that he was of the Noldor. Instead, the eyes of the other seemed to light up at hearing his name.

"Lord Glorfindel, well met! You are known to us." He returned the greeting, slightly inclining his head respectfully. "I am Thranduil."

Thranduil paused for a moment, studying Glorfindel intently before he turned to the sentry who closest to him, whispering in the tongue that was strange to Glorfindel. His eyes moved slightly on Glorfindel from time to time, before the green orbs were focused only on the sentry that Thranduil spoke to. Finally Thranduil gave him his full attention, motioning for Glorfindel to follow him deep into Greenwood forest.

"If you would please follow me. I will take you to our King, where there you can request an audience from him to discuss for why you journeyed here."

Glorfindel bowed his head again, recognizing Thranduil's name as the prince of Greenwood, the only son of Oropher, whom Elrond had told him a little about.

"Thank you, Prince Thranduil."

Were the only words that he could muster. His mind seemed so enchanted, lingering still on the one for whom he had dreamt of so many nights ago. His legs seemed to move on their own accord, while he tried to piece it all together. How had Thranduil done i, or was it even something that he had done at all? With great will he forced his thoughts back to the journey he took through the forest, instead of on Thranduil, and he followed slightly behind him.

Deep into the forest Thranduil led him down a winding path under ancient trees with broad leaves of green. The forest was peaceful, calm and still, although Glorfindel knew it was full of creatures both great and strange to him. The forest was alive deep in its sea of green, and he knew he was completely at Thranduil's mercy, who led him ever further into this strange and unknown land.

The air was rich with the aroma of mossy dew and the deep moist fragrance of the earth. After some time had passed, Glorfindel noticed that curious elves with dark hair and dark eyes were following his every movement, watching him from high in the trees and around him. The mountains towered in the distance and the trees became larger. Homes were hewn within the trees, strange dwellings that Glorfindel had never seen before.

And Thranduil continued to lead him on past more homes and ever more elves, until the densely populated areas they had passed. The wood-elves that curiously watched him were willowy, tall as the young trees that were dwarfed by the giant trees in the forest, regarding him ever with ancient and cautious eyes. The pace that Thranduil set was quick, and little time did Glorfindel have to take the strange elves in, which caused the elves to morph into a stream of flesh and timbre, indistinguishable in his mind as one great living forest.

Further on they went, and now Thranduil spoke about the Silvan Elves who had welcomed them here at the beginning of this age, and of how they had resettled to the north not too long ago from their earlier dwelling in Greenwood of Amon Lanc. Thranduil spoke with such fondness for the people, and such admiration for the land.

Glorfindel listened on. The dulcet quality of Thranduil's voice and strong Doriath accent was alluring and rich, a voice in which Glorfindel knew he could lose himself within, as if Thranduil's words held magic in their tones. Thranduil continued on with the history of the realm, telling Glorfindel about the ancient Silvan elves, of their earlier kingdom and of their long-gone King, who ages ago had passed into shadow, as if he had merged as one with this very forest. And Thranduil seemed to weave the story that spirits lingered ever in the forest; protective eyes and paladins to the elves who dwelled here.

Glorfindel wondered over the strange forest that seemed to harbor such beauty and trepidation, musing a little of the duality of its nature. A strange land he knew he had came to, one in which he hoped he could learn its secrets. He had never set foot in a land like this before, and for the first time he was actually glad that it had been him that Gil-galad had sent for this mission.

And with the ever changing forest, his thoughts meandered from his own introspection to the beauty of what was around him. They passed back into the lush forest, the elvish settlements were long in the distance. A small forest stream could be heard not too far in the distance, and Thranduil paused, looking back at Glorfindel, letting his deep green eyes pass over his horse.

"We will pause for a break." Thranduil led them to the stream, noting that Glorfindel's horse was weary with travel and needed pause to drink. In that ancient Elvish tongue, words were spoken that moved a sentry to lead Glorfindel's horse to the clear cool water, and the parched animal appreciatively drank his fill.

Glorfindel watched, pleased that his horse was being tended, before seating himself on the forest floor, taking in the ancient trees. He noticed that Thranduil regarded him at different intervals while he conversed with his sentries in the softest of whispers, until finally he come over, seating himself next to him.

  
"And what impressions do you have of our forest?"

Glorfindel was surprised this was the first and only question that Thranduil asked him, but he quickly gathered his thoughts to respond.

"The beauty is stunning. Not a word I was told about these lands properly prepared my eyes or mind for the wonder and splendor of this forest. I feel the ancient magic in the trees and can see why the elves of yesteryear did not want to leave their homelands."

Glorfindel hoped he had provided an answer that did justice to what the forest had done to his heart. He studied Thranduil who was regarding his response, but his face was unreadable, eyes refusing to disclose his thoughts.

"This forest will do that to you." Thranduil finally replied. "The soul of this land has away of enchanting you, until you yourself are wound within its core, unable to break free. You find yourself becoming a part of the forest, wild and carefree."

A smile covered his fair face, eyes shining bright with the essence of the Greenwood, as if the spirit of the forest lived inside of him. Thranduil rose in elegance, setting his sight on the path that lay before them.

"We should continue on. Our King's halls are not too far away now. We will be there before the sun begins its decent into night."

Thranduil readied his sentries for departure from their pause, and soon Glorfindel found himself back on the trail that led to the heart of Oropher's realm. He was a little nervous as he let his mind reflect again on King Oropher. If the father were anything like the son, then Glorfindel knew his time here would be pleasant. He found an instant fondness and liking towards Thranduil, and although he seemed unreadable at times, he had only been friendly towards him, direct with his warmness. The elves in his company conveyed to him that they held Thranduil in high regard, conveying to Glorfindel that he indeed was a noble one, and someone for whom he wanted to get to know better.

And with the gentle sparkle deep within Thranduil's eyes, Glorfindel could calm his nerves, subduing them inside. Glorfindel found it strange he had any misgivings at all. He was a warrior, bold and assured. Surely this was the reason why his High King Gil-galad had requested him to make this journey. He would act the part as best he could, and let his charm win over these Greenwood elves.

Glorfindel followed slightly behind Thranduil. He studied him some more, noting that Thranduil was shorter than him, by just a little, his long silver hair flowed down his back and was unadorned or decorated with any braids or ornamentation. His face had been friendly, with clear sparkling green eyes that shone as emeralds, bewitching gems for the like that Glorfindel had never seen before.  
He wondered just how similar the father might be to the son, a little excited now to meet the King, who with each footstep, he drew nearer to.

The path Thranduil led him down went deep into the heart of the forest with large trees towering above them. The trees were denser now, the canopy blocked the sun. But although the trail was dark, the forest was not gloomy or displeasing. In fact, the darkening forest seemed to will  
an ethereal beauty that Glofindel wondered was even real. But soon, with each step that they took the trees began to lighten up. Vibrant leaves larger than his hand danced in the breezes above him. Thranduil continued to lead them on, until finally they had entered the very heart of Oropher's realm.

Glorfindel took the settlement in. The elvish city at at the glades near the edge of the forest was impressive enough, just at the foothills of the mountains with Oropher's citadel standing grand in its midst. Many elves of Silvan and Sindar decent regarded the party as they passed, finely dressed with garments adorned with jewels. The city was bustling with activity, full of life and built around the very forest these elves cherished.

Glorfindel noticed that this area was far different than the dwellings he had passed as he made his way through the forest. The city was expansive, filling the glades until it stretched even into the forest. It was cleaved within and around the trees, with buildings that wound and soared with the very heights of the timbers. Bridge-ways towered above him, connecting the edifices a top him. And spiraling stairs encircled the trees, whose steps were canopied by delicate arches.

And Thranduil guided him through it all, until they had reached the citadel. Oropher's citadel was nestled between the trees reflecting the forest and the mountains in its organic design, and Glorfindel was instantly awestruck by its beauty.

His horse was guided away, explained by Thranduil to Glorfindel that it was going to the stables where the beast would be attended and cared. Many elven guards stood attentive as they passed, and the massive doors were opened before them. Glorfindel couldn't help but look around as he walked through the grand and impressive halls. And then Thranduil bade him pause, while he went into another room, disappearing from his sight.

Cautious curies eyes seemed to pierce through him. Oropher's guards were uneasy with his presence. But they did not hinder or bother him, seeming to trust Thranduil's judgement that he should enter. Minute after minute passed and Thranduil did not emerge from the other room. Glorfindel felt his curiosity begin to wander, looking at the hall that he was paused in. The stone of the room was delicately carved into archways that seemed to interlace into even more interesting designs. The stone was white, which gave it an airy look, and the floor of the hall mirrored the carvings in the stone that matched the arches that soared above him.

Many a fine fair elves were gathered, standing outside the doorway, just before Glorfindel. They all kept him in their sights, whispering in that same tongue that he had heard Thranduil use, discussing him, the outsider, who had dared enter into King Oropher's realm. But Glorfindel did not have much time to regard them, for he was then snapped back to attention, when Thranduil bade him to join him in the other room.

'This must be it, the heart of Oropher's realm.' Glorfindel thought when he entered into the room. Following a step behind Thranduil, he noted to check his breathing, compose his heart-rate and adopt his ever steadfast confidence that he so desperately wanted to display. He held his head high, shoulders back, carrying himself with grace and ease. Despite his travels and the soils of the road, Glorfindel knew he still presented a noble image, for ever he was a mighty and wise. The stunned silence that filled the room from those he passed testified exactly to that.

Oropher's throne room was nothing short of intimidating, with stone pillars that raised to the rafters, arms carved like the branches of the trees in Greenwood forest. The room was filled with an impressive court, strange elves who peered at Glorfindel. But Glorfindel noted to keep his eyes solely on Oropher, who sat stoic and regal on a wooden throne. His long silver hair was topped with a soaring crown, that mirrored the very forest that Glorfindel had just passed through. His green eyes were piercing, cold and hard as only one who had lived through much bloodshed. His face was set with an unreadable expression. He was a towering imposing figure for whom Glorfindel knew was a noble ruler. And he was one for whom Glorfindel knew would be an arduous adversary.

He bowed alongside Thranduil before his introduction was announced.

"My King Oropher, may I present to you the Lord Glorfindel of Imladris, who brings a message from the High-King Gil-galad."

Oropher eyed Glorfindel for awhile, before he rose from his throne. Slowly he walked over to where Glorfindel was standing, and he stood before him face to face. Oropher was silent long, with a steadfast gaze that seemed that if he only wanted, could turn Glorfindel fast into pieces, shattering like glass against the stone floor they stood on. But Glorfindel met Oropher's gaze, eyes not relenting. He stared boldly with great equal, matching Oropher's will.

Without breaking the stare that had them locked in place, Oropher's words finally pierced through the throne room. "We will receive the messenger from Gil-galad and will hence-forth hold a meeting to discuss whatever fancy has crossed his High-King's mind."

The words were not cordial, but were mocking ever so slightly.

Oropher motioned for a strange elf to come forward. Glorfindel watched as he came forth from the shadows and stood before Oropher.

"Galion, show our visitor to his quarters, that he will be staying in for the duration of his stay here."

Oropher turned back to Glorfindel, his words were direct as to impose his will on him, letting this intruder know that his attendance was mandatory. "Lord Glorfindel, you will join me for dinner tonight. Dinner begins exactly at sundown. Make sure you are not late."

Glorfindel bowed again, accepting the invitation. "Thank you, my Lord, for your hospitality. And when can I expect this meeting?"

Oropher's reply was only a dismissal, signaling for Galion to lead Glorfindel to his chambers. His piercing gaze then set on Thranduil, letting him know that his presence was required further, after Glorfindel had left the throne room.

"Thranduil." Oropher signaled for him to follow from the throne room, into a more private council room that was adjacent to the throne room. His father's chief advisor also joined them from, following just behind. Thranduil followed Oropher, wondering what his father needed to discuss about Glorfindel.

Oropher shut the door behind him, and motioned for Thranduil to seat himself beside his chief- advisor, who had lived and survived both sacks of Doriath.

"I want you to keep an eye on that Noldo." The last word was spoken with slight disdain. "I trust him not, brazenly journeying here alone, the great Lord Glorfindel who brought down a Balrog, who is returned to our lands from the Halls of Mandos."

Oropher paced the counsel room, evidently angered that Glorfindel had been sent by Gil-galad, who now wished to open up discussions with his realm. Oropher had no intentions of ever establishing relations, or ever pledging an alliance with Gil-galad, even despite the evil that he knew lingered just beyond his fair forest home.

Thranduil watched his father's movements, how his eyes had darkened with anger. But he did not understand the request that Oropher had placed on him, or the intentions.

"Keep an eye on him? What ever for?" Thranduil had to ask, perplexed at the request.

"I know you were but a youngster when the Noldor brought Doriath down Thranduil, but I know that you remember. Their lot can not be trusted. They destroyed what we had rebuilt of our great kingdom, slaughtering anyone who stood in their way, and all because of some madness over gems. Their minds are easily corrupted, ever hungry for power beyond what is theirs to control. Even if a new age has come, they simply can not be trusted. Look what happened with Eregion, with the foolish smiths who created such evil, befriending and trusting the Dark Lord himself.  
They bring nothing but misery."

Oropher's words were filled with his anger, which bordered on downright hatred for the Noldor. "We will proceed with great caution, using full discretion before we even consider agreement to met with this servant of Gil-galad."

'And, I intend to test him to see if he is worthy.' Oropher thought to himself, choosing to leave this information privy from his son.

Thranduil nodded, knowing not to cross his father. But he also knew as well what had happened in Doriath. Although he condemned the kin-slayers, the dare to thief that silmaril and the spell it had put their King under had started the events that had brought the kingdom down to ruin. Oropher knew that both parties held blame, but Thranduil knew better to remind him of that. He also knew that Oropher knew that there was a growing presence of evil in the land, and that darkness and fowl things from the southeast caused a stirring of worry in his father's heart and mind.

Both father and son knew that although isolated they wished to be, Sauron would not ever leave them be. However, despite this threat, his father was the king, and his decrees had to be followed. He knew better than to cross his Lord's will.

"As you wish, my King. And what shall I report on?" Thranduil waited for a response.

"Just keep an eye on him. If you deem anything strange or worth reporting on, let me know that." Oropher's eyes were set as stones on his only son. "And furthermore Thranduil, I want you to stay around my halls. Do not venture out of this area unless I give my command. Do I make myself clear, Thranduil?"

Thranduil nodded again, letting Oropher know he understood his words, before leaving the room when his father had dismissed him.

After Thranduil had left, Oropher turned to Galion who had entered the room just shortly after Thranduil had departed.

"My king," Galion bowed low, "Our visitor was shown to his guest chambers." Oropher nodded, acknowledging the words.

"Galion, I have a request of you." He bade Galion to come closer to him. "You are the eyes in which I trust the most for the going ons in my halls. Keep an eye on Thranduil and Glorfindel. I do not like the way in which my son looked on at that Noldo. How he announced his name with such endearment. Report to me all activity between the two, but in the end, let us hope that there is nothing to report."

Galion bowed again, accepting the duty his King had given him. He shut the door behind him, leaving Oropher alone to discuss the matter of Glorfindel with his chief advisor.

\---------------

Glorfindel sat in the rooms he had been given for his stay. The rooms consisted of a small sitting room, private bath, and sleeping room. The chambers suited him just fine. He especially liked the large balcony that overlooked the crowns of Greenwood forest below. Glorfindel found himself standing there now, letting his eyes travel as far as they could. He took in the sight of the leafy summits, expansive in their sea of greens. His blue eyes took in all the sights below him, allowing the essence of the great forest once again to engross his entire being.

There was no denying that this forest was different from the ones that surrounded Imladris. Even the forest of Lorien had a different air about it. Greenwood had an ancient feel to it, it was a far more magical place of wonderment and mystique. And Oropher's citadel was very much a part of the forest and the mountains, a rustic dwelling that seemed to worship the forest around it, celebrating the land.

He turned away from the balcony, suddenly aware of the state he was in. He felt the need to refresh, so he walked into his bathroom, pleased to see that a bath had already been drawn for him. The inviting water beckoned to his weary body and he hastily pulled off his tunic, boots and leggings and eased himself into the warm bath water. His body instantly relaxed and he let himself lay there, soaking in the relaxing water at leisure.

Although his body relaxed, his mind was something other in which to tame. Thoughts of the Greenwood and of her King would not dissipate from his mind. The thought of dining with Oropher enticed him, making it all the more difficult to let the long of the road wash away in the water. With force he had to relieve his mind. He knew he needed his full intellect for dinner and weariness sometimes could dull even the wisest of souls. Closing his eyes, he relaxed his breathing, steadying it so his mind could pause as well. And as he meditated, time started to slip away. But Glorfindel knew the sun would soon set, and not wanting to cross Oropher, he rose from the bath. He knew he would be expected in the dining halls soon, wherever that was in this unfamiliar place.

Satisfied that the dirt from the road and his long journey were gone, he dressed himself in his finest tunic, a silver-blue top with grey leggings and his fine elven boots which he had cleaned off. He did his hair, combing it out until it shone as ripples of gold, and braided back a few simple braids into his hair. He looked at his reflection, a majestic vision. He knew he presented a befitting representation of the Noldor, and a worthy dignitary within Oropher's realm.

A gentle rapping come on his outer chamber doors and Glorfindel moved his head in that direction, nothing that the sun was just about to set. He made hast to the door, opening it up, seeing the face of Thranduil staring back at him.

"You look as if you are ready for dinner. I thought I would accompany you to our dining hall." Thranduil motioned for Glorfindel to follow him.

"A most pleasant surprise, Prince Thranduil." Glorfindel inclined his head.

Thranduil laughed a little before responding to him. "Please, just call me Thranduil. I request most everyone not use that title around me. It allows me the allusion of living a simpler life, something I very much yearn for sometimes in all this bustle of formality."

His sparkling green eyes shown as emeralds, full of such warmth and jovial mirth. Thranduil's long silver hair was still unbraided but he now were a circlet of mithril on his brow, nullifying whatever request the prince implored at deterring his announced title.

Glorfindel smiled over the beauty of the one before him, whose fair face was similar to Oropher's, but gentler, eyes still full of wonder and life and that good that comes with living.

"As you wish, Thranduil." Glorfindel let the name roll over his tongue, pondering a bit over the strange name. "I thank you for accompanying me. I have been most surprised at the hospitality I have been shown since my arrival here."

Thranduil smiled back, lifting an elegant eyebrow when he felt Glorfindel's eyes roam over him. Thranduil knew he was considered as elven perfection, a majestic creature who could cause pure desire on any. But Glorfindel him impressed even Thranduil, with his shimmering golden hair and crystal blue eyes in whose depths swam such wisdom and might. For the first time in his life, Thranduil felt insignificant and small. Slowly he was becoming awe struck by Glofindel. But ever an enigma, Thranduil could mask his true feelings and desires even from the most discerning of eyes. He kept his breath steady, face relaxed, voice calm and detached, uninterested in the one before him.

"It pleases me to hear that you are satisfied thus far with your visit to the Greenwood. My home is a magical place." Thranduil let his love for the forest ring forth within his voice. Greenwood forest was special to him, and he had merged his soul long ago with the ancient forest, pulling forth its magic into his very core.

"I hope that during your stay, you will get to see and learn more of this forest." He stated to their Glorfindel.

"I would be most honored and humbled to be able to learn more of this great forest."

"In time, I believe you shall." Thranduil paused, turning to Glorfindel now, stopping him in his tracks.

"A word about King Oropher." He let his voice fell to but a whisper. "If you are serious about seeing the objective of Gil-galad come to pass, for which we both know must come to be for the good of all, you must forget your own ways. Set your actions on Oropher's terms. Let the spirit of this land guide your mindset. I can not intervene for you. It will only drive Oropher to rage. This is something that you alone must be able to forge." Thranduil turned, and then without another word or care for response from Glorfindel, he continued on, walking down the halls.

Glorfindel reflected on Thranduil's words, pondering the advice. He knew that Oropher had left the west to seek a simpler life, returning to their ancient days before the bloodshed had driven a rift between the elven tribes. He noted to heed Thranduil's words, advice that he knew could be the difference to seeing that an agreement to align if so asked was forged. Thranduil was astute, Glorfindel mused, noting that he had been able to know exactly why he had made the trip to the Greenwood.

He saw that Thranduil had now stopped, and he was standing beneath a large arched entrance that led into a dining hall. Two elven guards stood as stones by the arch way and Thranduil gently motioned for Glorfindel to follow him into it.

Glorfindel noted that the dining hall was expansive. Table after table filled it, although the room was quite empty. He followed Thranduil to a table that was already set, finding his seat when Thranduil pointed to it. It was a place next to the King's and opposite of Thranduil, although Oropher was not yet present in the dining hall.

Two other elves entered the room, and took their seats, one by Thranduil, the other beside Glorfindel. He recognized them from earlier when he had stood in Oropher's throne room. The two elven lords were finely dressed, robed in light grey-green garments with light silver threads sewed in interlace with such delicate detail. The one who took his seat by Thranduil also had silver hair and an ancient look in his eyes as one who had lived beyond an age. The elf seated just beside him had dark brown hair, warm with reddish hues. His skin was a little warmer in tone than the other elf's, having a complexion of rich peach, whereas the other was of pale ivory.

The table was just set for the five of them, although it went on for forever it seemed. Glorfindel understood that Oropher wished a more intimate dinner to better scrutinize his purpose, and Glorfindel was grateful, relieved that on his first night be would have more of Oropher's attention.

He studied the table setting, while he waiting for Oropher to arrive. The table was set with delicate candle holders, and a woodland motif of decoration. Leaves of various colors and vibrant bunches of berries were placed in crystal vases atop the table. The hall itself was very much open to the woods, with large open archways that showed the vista of vibrant colored trees. But yet, they were inside, with a ceiling above their heads, and it was comprised of raised arches that mirrored the very branches and leaves of the enchanting forest beyond the open walls.

The others at the table stood, so Glorfindel followed their lead, and he stood to attention with respect when Oropher entered the room. Oropher had changed his crown to a simpler circlet, more ornate than the one Thranduil wore, but far less imposing than the one that had decorated his person when Glorfindel had seen him last in the throne room. He was dressed in a grey-green robe with dark green thread that shimmered with mithril highlights. The green of his robes brought prominence to his eyes, that gleamed as they took in the others within the room.

They all took their seats only when Oropher had seated himself. Silence was held while servers came into the rooms, carrying plate after plate of salads loaded with nuts and berries, and plates of fruits, breads and pastries. And bottle after bottle of wines were presented to Oropher who took great consideration with making his selection. On finally settling for a deep red wine, the bottle was uncorked and their wine glasses filled, matching their now filled plates.

Glorfindel watched the charades, a little surprised at the order and primness of the dinner, surprised that the elves in Greenwood acted as such. He hadn't really thought of what Oropher's court would be like, or how their feasts would be held. He had kind of imagined a dinner under the great forest, with the night's light and fires lighting their way, and tables of rustic wood topped with the jewels of the forest; a feast for the entire forest. He had imagined merry Elvish music and smiling fair faces enjoying the night, and song and dance long into the hours. Looking around, there was none of that here. Just silence and the imposing figure of the Woodland-King.

Thranduil's eyes sparkled at him, a smile and a wink, as if suggesting to Glorfindel that this was not always their norm, and that perhaps he could descry one of their woodland feasts in time, if he thus could earn it. And Glorfindel understood that the reason they dined in this setting was purely for him.

The meal was delicious, and Glorfindel was grateful for that, for he had not realized just how hungry he actually was. The food he had ate on the road had been nourishing, but sorely lacking in everything else. His appetite was great and the company was good with Thranduil present.

Thranduil, for his part, seemed to smile at him, beckoning for him to glance at him, eyes reflecting intrigue and yearning. Glorfindel wandered what for, and averted his attention back to his plate. He took his goblet, raising it to drink down the sweet nectar.

Glorfindel could feel the weight of Oropher's gaze on him, scrutinizing his every move. He was studying him, making him out, as if his movements and facade could alone disclose to the King all there was to know about him. Glorfindel remained docile and calm, while he took in the father and son.

After taking a long drink from his wine, Oropher finally spoke to Glorfindel.

"What brings you to my realm?" His formidable voice cut through the silence, demanding an answer that was no less than what he sought.

"The High-King…." Glorfindel started to speak, until Oropher cut him off, voice snarling in its interrogation.

"No, why were YOU sent, Lord Glorfindel? I know what Gil-galad wants. But why you? Why not an advisor, a counsellor, a real diplomat?"

Glorfindel felt his pride well up, but he was wise, and with his wisdom he knew that Oropher knew exactly who he was, and he certainly knew that Oropher knew his noble pedigree. He was a diplomat as any, and he kept his calm, as he knew that Oropher wanted him to lose his temper, to falter, and to fall into anger and frustration. He would not give in to the game in which Oropher wanted him to play.

"My Lord, it is not in my nature to question the judgement or wishes of my King. He asked that I see this task through, and as his loyal subject, I would do his will. The Greenwood's friendship is of most importance to us…."

"We are none of Gil-galad's concern, nor will the Greenwood ever be aligned with any realm of the Noldor. "

Glorfindel was again interrupted, as Oropher spat his dislike.

"The Noldor ask of friendship when destruction and grief is all that they bring with their offerings. Do not bring the poison of your words and intentions into my realm." Oropher's green eyes were as cold as an ice-covered rock, and seemed as if glacial gems that reflected no warmth for Glorfindel.

Glorfindel checked his tongue, remembering Thranduil's words from earlier. He couldn't just waltz in and expect Oropher to open his heart as friends and agree to answer to the High-King's call, when ever that day would come. Somehow, Glorfindel would have to earn Oropher's respect, to prove he was worthy to discuss answering to the call of alignment. This would not be an easy task, but Glorfindel felt up to the challenge.

He understood exactly where the deep rooted anger and mistrust stemmed from. Oropher's strong disdain for the Noldor went back to the First Age, when Doriath had been sacked by the Feonors. A slow healing pain had wounded the hearts of the Sindar with the death of their King and the sack of their city by the dwarves. The city had been rebuilt, but only to fall to ruin when the sons of Feonor marched on it a few years later, finally beating down the wounded people. Oropher had seen his King Thingol and kinsmen die at the hands of the dwarves, and had seen his friends and relatives die. And as a prince of Doriath, he had helped rebuild the realm up again only to watch if fall forever when the Noldor brought it down.

Glorfindel could admire the resolve that Oropher had, how he carried on in Arda despite the wounds in his heart from the death he had seen and the pain he had felt. A strong person he was, and Glorfindel understood that his stubbornness and caution only was a result from wanting to keep those dearest to him safe, his family, his people. But the signs of a greater evil had given them all a warning that even if Oropher wished to keep his people isolated and out of the mix, that evil would not let his desire come to pass. All people were bound by this evil and threat. For this very reason, the High-King knew he may need to call on the Greenwood to align if ever they decided to challenge the Dark-Lord once and for all.

His blue eyes then wandered over to Thranduil who looked similar to his father, but with much softer features and a more striking face. He wondered of his mother, if it were her gentle nature that shown within Thranduil's face. His eyes went back to Oropher and he noticed that no queen was present. Oropher's next words let Glorfindel know that his expression had give his thoughts away.

"My queen has been dead for an age now, Lord Glorfindel. Surely your High-King would have told you that."

"My apologies, my lord." Glorfindel was embarrassed that Oropher could read him so easily. But Elrond had not said a word about Oropher's wife or what fate had befallen her. Glorfindel wondered what had happened to her and by whose hand she had succumbed to.

"No reason to say such, as so many I loved have departed Arda forever. After awhile, it is what one comes to expect, is it not? Surely you of all people would know this to be true, Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel felt his mind spin. Oropher was unlike any other person that he had met before. Glorfindel knew a few of the Sindar, but little of the distant ones who had departed east over the Misty Mountains, far off from Lindon and Imladris. His self doubt made him wonder again as to why Gil-galad had chosen him for this task. Although he was wise and mighty as any elven lord was, his patience was not limitless and could easily be tapped. Especially if Oropher would only scoff at their reasonable request. Glorfindel knew that Oropher knew of the danger in the land, of the growing presence of Sauron. Wasn't this one of the very reasons why Oropher had moved his people further north? Surely it did not all fall on just the dwarves in Moria or the presence of Galadriel in Lorien that had caused them to seek a new capitol.

Unsure with how to answer Oropher, Glorfindel finally responded, hoping the words he now spoke would satisfy him. "My Lord, I am afraid I know little of the Greenwood's people and suspect I was chosen because I bring no misconceptions or opinions of her King. I am truly sorry if my ignorance has offended you, but I can honestly say, it is with great respect that I wish to learn all I can about this realm."

Oropher's green eyes softened a bit, but ever stone they remained in an indurate fashion. "I believe the distance of the road has dulled your wits, Lord Glorfindel."

Oropher set his wine goblet down, motioning for Galion to step forward. "Please ensure that our guest finds his way back to his rooms. If you will excuse me, Lord Glorfindel, I grow weary this night and will retire now. You are free to seek your rest as well, for I know the distance of the road must have exhausted you."

Everyone stood when Oropher departed without uttering another word, followed shortly by the chief-advisor who also stated his leave for the night. Before he knew it, his eyes were instantly on Thranduil who just smiled back to him.

"Welcome to the Greenwood." Thranduil laughed a little before he finished off the rest of his wine. "If you stick around long enough, you will get use to our King. He is like that, you know, imperious. And you never really know what sort of mood he will be in."

"A little like you, Thranduil." The other counsellor who had remained silent through all of the night, finally said the first words Glorfindel had heard him speak. His voice was deep, and he seemed more jovial than the chief-advisor who had earlier departed. With the thick of his accent, Glorfindel knew he had Silvan heritage, and was most likely a Lord from this land who had accepted Oropher as their King.

Thranduil only just raised a single eyebrow when he heard the counsellor's words, and he cared not to respond. He then let his eyes fall back to Glorfindel. Alluringly, he smiled at him, before he was forced to once again turn his attention back on his father's counsellor, who had started speaking after taking a drink from his goblet.

"I do wonder how King Oropher will proceed with handling a request from the High-King himself, especially with the ever growing evil in the lands." The counsellor stated, posing his question to Thranduil.

"Our King is wise, and I trust that he will do what is best for our people." Thranduil stated little, not wanting to really discuss the topic in detail. He wished it were just he and Glorfindel alone, but the counsellor was taking his sweet time with his dinner plate, and Glorfindel had already  
finished his plate and looked as if he was ready to retire for the night.

"It is not our way to interfere with other peoples. I wonder if Oropher will act with a Silvan mindset."

"I am sure he will act as a King." Glorfindel chimed in, his fatigue evident on his fair features from his long journey and events of the day.

Both nodded at his response, and just as Thranduil had thought, Glorfindel then rose, excusing himself back to his rooms. Thranduil and the counselor stood in politeness, and wished him a relaxing and peaceful night.

"I think I will also take my leave." Thranduil wished his father's counsellor goodnight.

Thranduil then headed swiftly to his bedroom chambers, throwing his circlet off before falling onto his bed. What a day it had been and his mind swam with the images of the glorious visitor. He was unable to cast Glorfindel from his mind, and not really knowing what moved him, he removed his boots and clothes, until he was clothed only in a simple robe. The feel of the cold stone floor was amusing on his bare feet, and Thranduil found himself walking his father's halls in this early night.

\-----------

The night came with the songs of the Woodland Elves singing their love for the stars. Fair elven voices pierced through the night, ringing as chimes in a harmony that only the Eldar could produce. Their singing could make any soul feel comfort and melt into an ease. Glorfindel leaned against a pillar, the fatigue from the day was finally setting in. The song that rolled across the night and the calm of the forest made him forget his earlier trials from the day. He took a sip of his wine, enjoying the cool sweet liquid, and he let his mind become enchanted with the rolling song.

"The night is most beautiful." Thranduil said, as he came to stand by Glorfindel. His deep green eyes sparkled.

"Prince Thranduil!" Glorfindel was startled a little, surprised that he had came upon him unnoticed.

An impish smile spread across Thranduil's face. "I hope I am not disturbing you this night. If you are tired, please let me know, so you can take your rest."

Although he was weary and his fatigue was starting to manifest, Glorfindel was glad that Thranduil had sought him out this night. The bright stars could still be seen even though the leaves were thick and numerous in this forest, and the soft glow of the lanterns around the balcony illuminated Thranduil, and Glorfindel once again, saw the image of that dream personified now in Thranduil. Such intrigue and peace filled his being and Glorfindel smiled, genuinely glad that Thranduil was beside him.

"Not at all. I am glad to share this evening with you. It is still too early for me to find rest tonight. And I am most glad to have your company." Glorfindel took another drink from his goblet, before he paused and suddenly stated. "Where are my manners? Let me pour you some wine to enjoy as well."

Thranduil raised a slender hand, stopping Glorfindel from exiting the balcony to complete the task. "I can pour my own wine, my friend."

Glorfindel watched him walk back int the room, disappearing from this sight to the table that held the wines and goblets.

  
"You selected my favorite wine." Thranduil was once again at his side, sipping the sweet nectar, resting his lithe and slender frame against the balcony railing.

Glorfindel took in the sight of the one beside him. Thranduil had changed into a thin robe, one he mused that the could sleep in. The robe was draped around his body loosely, revealing his chest with skin as white as alabaster. His long silver hair flowed down his back as straight as ever, with not a single hair out of place. The one who shared the night with him was one of the most beautiful sights Glorfindel had ever seen.

"Is that so? A lucky coincidence, I suppose." Glorfindel didn't really know why he stated such. He did not really believe in coincidence, believing instead that the Valar guided all things as they were meant to be.

Thranduil laughed a little, sipping some more of the wine he so adored. "And why so lucky?" Curiosity gripped him, wondering why he had chosen that vernacular.

  
"Well, lucky because the wine pleases you, and that makes me glad." Glorfindel really didn't know what else to say, not sure why Thranduil inquired on the topic.

Changing the subject, Thranduil leaned in closer to Glorfindel. "Tell me, what are your impressions of Oropher?"

Blinking a little, Glorfindel knew he needed to choose his words with caution, carefully speaking to Thranduil about his father. He knew of Thranduil's loyalty to Oropher. It must be a strong one if it had caused Thranduil to journey east with him to the Greenwood.

"The King, from what little I have spent with him, has already impressed on me his might and greatness as a ruler…."

"Now, now. You do not have to say such endearments to me. Tell me what you truly think, not what you think I want to hear." Thranduil's smile teased Glorfindel, an eyebrow raised with his dare.

"I look on you both with and see so many differences. " Glorfindel confessed, feeling propelled to trust Thranduil, and open up to him. "I feel at ease with you, but with your King, I feel ever on edge."

"He likes to do that to people, especially to those who seek something from him." Thranduil was silent for awhile, contemplating his words, sighing audibly, before continuing.

"It is a pity that it is not me that you have to win over, because already I can tell I like you very much. I would say to you, my dear Glorfindel, just be yourself with him. Do not put on any airs or show your unease because Oropher will use that against you."

Thranduil let his head fall back, so his face was uplifted to the night sky.

Glorfindel took Thranduil's words in and watched his eyes close, as if he was taking in the full essence of the cool forest night. He watched as a smile crossed Thranduil's face, before he went back into the room. Returning shortly, he held the half-empty bottle of wine in his hand.

"Your glass is empty." He stated matter of factually to Glorfindel, before he refilled the goblet. Laughter escaped from Glorfindel's lips. "How did you even notice?"

"My friend," Thranduil chimed. "I always notice when wine bottles and goblets run dry. That is never a good situation to have at all."

"How is that even possible? One can not know such things." Glorfindel laughed to the strange one, whose face was marked with seriousness.

"A special sense, I suppose." Thranduil shrugged, not really caring to explain his reasoning to Glorfindel. "And now you have a full goblet, and can once again enjoy some good wine."

Glorfindel mused on his surroundings. Here he was in the Greenwood, drinking wine with the enigmatic Thranduil. Elrond had told him a little about him that day before he had left for the Greenwood. He had been told that Thranduil would be an ally, a carefree spirit who held no malice or ill-will within his heart. He was certainly glad Elrond's words held true, for the kindness and friendship that Thranduil offered kept Glorfindel calm and at ease with his frustrations from Oropher.

"A word about dinner tonight." Thranduil's words snapped him to attention. "I could not help but notice that you seemed to scrutinize the setting. We sometimes dine in that room yes, but often we hold great dinners under the trees, full of such song and dance. I hope you get to see one before you depart our lands."

He downed the remaining wine from his goblet and smiled. "I look forward to seeing you on the morrow. Sleep well, and may good dreams only find you."

"Good night Thranduil, and thank you for the company tonight. It was unexpected and most appreciated. I too, as well, look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

He watched as Thranduil left, and he looked into his wine glass, before finishing it off. He was very tired from the long road of his journey, and needed sleep.

After a long day, Glorfindel headed into his room to let sleep find him. Even though the uncertainty and excitement for tomorrow was running though his mind, the weariness from his travels and the potency of the wine easily caused him to drift into a fast and peaceful sleep.


	3. Calling To My Soul

It was the piercing calls from the songbirds that drove Glorfindel from deep reverie. The night was slowly fading to dawn, stars dimming in the awaking sky. Glorfindel moved his hair from his face, blinking his eyes at the bright from the rays that spilled into his room. Once his eyes came into vision, he then focused his attention on the sounds of the mourning doves who cooed their greetings to the breaking day. They sang of the new dawn, telling him that it was still very early.

Glorfindel lay in bed, seeing the rising beams of Anor from his window and he wondered if perhaps today the meeting would be called where he could engage Oropher in dialogue. A sense of excitement flooded into his mind and a sort of pride swelled within his heart. 

Glorfindel felt refreshed. He had slept well last night. The dinner did not disenchant his heart, but had in fact brought intrigue to his soul. Thranduil seemed ever the ally; although to what extent his fervor would resonate with breaking through to Oropher was still unkown. And Oropher, the King himself, had cared enough to invite him for dinner and engage him in conversation. The banter was generally not too obtuse or useless. Still, Glorfindel knew just how formidable Oropher could be, and knew he needed to keep his wits and charm about him this day.

As the minutes slowly ticked away, Glorfindel knew that soon he should rise and find breakfast. Perhaps Oropher would be present at the breakfast table, and just perhaps the new day would find him free of his troubles and in a more approachable and agreeable mood. Perhaps he would be told when to report for this meeting that had caused him to travel at such short notice, trekking far across the face of Arda, over mountains, endless plains, and through strange forests. These looping thoughts were exciting prospects to Glorfindel, and with such eagerness of the unknown day ahead of him he finally stretched, rising from the bed.

The chill of the early morning pulled him to the balcony, as he was curious to see what daybreak looked like deep in the heart of Greenwood forest. The slight breezes and their cold whispers in the air caused him to pull his robes around his body as he stood at the edge of the balcony, whose heights could do little to compete with the soaring crests of the forest canopy around him. The forest sparkled with the glistening of the morning dew; thousands of sparkling diamonds reflected the rays of the sun all around him. The stone of the balcony floor held tiny puddles that pulled at his bare feet, wrapping them in cold water that felt like ice. The morning was still new; the leaves ceased in their movement, and the songs of the birds pierced the silence around him, echoing through the trees around him.

Silver hair caught Glorfindel's attention far below on the forest floor. His blue eyes watched Thranduil leave the citadel where he was staying. Glorfindel noted that Thranduil was dressed in a green tunic, grey leggings and carried with him a bow and quiver of arrows. Intrigued, he watched the other disappear within the forest whose branches and tall trees seemed to swallow him up, hiding his path from Glorfindel. Although out of sight, Glorfindel continued to look on, letting his thoughts muse over where Thranduil may have gone to this early morning. He wondered if he was leaving the citadel for good to journey back to the forest's borders. But hadn't Thranduil told him he would see him again today? A sense of unease pulsed through Glorfindel's mind, and he didn't quite understand these strange feelings. 

Still he knew that what ever Oropher bade his son do, Thranduil had to obey. Perhaps it was Oropher then who had sent him away to the outer borders. The thought that he might not see Thranduil again saddened him deeply. Still thinking about these troubling thoughts, Glorfindel turned from the balcony and he entered back into his rooms.

Knowing the day was soon to great him with his duties as dignitary for the High-King, whatever they may be, Glorfindel dressed himself after he washed. He made himself up as best he could, knowing that he only wanted to leave a good impression on the elves of Greenwood and on their King.

Before he could turn and head to the door, he heard a knock upon it. Three raps in quick succession and a pause while the other waited for his answer. Curiously he walked with hast to the door and opened it to find the one called Galion staring back into his eyes. Glorfindel recognized him as the butler who had shown him to his room yesterday and who had made little conversation with him.

Galion smiled graciously to Glorfindel, and his fair face reflected the warmth of his kind personality and of his courtesy.

"Good morning, Lord Glorfindel." He bowed elegantly before the foreign visitor. "I hope your rest last night was pleasant?"

"Good morning as well, Galion." Glorfindel returned the courtesy.  "It most certainly was."

A gentle nod of Galion's had relayed to Glorfindel that he was pleased to hear his response, and his words seemed to bring satisfaction to Galion.

"You will let me know, please, if there is anything we can do for you to make your stay here in our lands more comfortable for you." Galion's words were heavy in accent, and his verbiage was strange. The thick lilt of his pronunciation of the Sindarin tongue revealed his Silvan heritage to Glorfindel.

"I thank you again, Galion, and I will take your words to heart."

Glorfindel let his eyes study the King's butler. He looked young, but Glorfindel knew that all the first born were deceptive when it came to gauging age. His fair face was flawless, with skin of a dark cream, eyes like the bark of the woodland trees, and long hair of rich mahogany. He was dressed in a light green tunic that reached to his thighs, and grey leggings that tucked into his knee-length boots. Galion was handsome, an exotic woodland creature for whom Glorfindel knew was perceptive and sharp with his seemingly brooding eyes.

Galion knew Glorfindel had been evaluating him and he kept his gaze steady on Glorfindel; the very one his King-lord did not trust. "I have been asked to show you parts of Greenwood Forest today after breakfast. Our King thought it best that you see more of these lands for which we hold dear."

Galion noted a slight shift in the light in Glorfindel's eyes, as if his annoyance could not be fully checked. He continued on as if he hadn't noticed the subtle stir in the visitor's eyes.

"King Oropher also sends his regrets that today he will be kept busy with other more pressing priorities at the moment. The winter months will shortly be before us and as such, all provisions must be tied up before the snows cripple our trades with our eastern neighbors."

At hearing this Glorfindel really had to mask his surprise and irritation from Oropher's disregard for his business. The winter months were seasons away, as the spring has just budded to early summer. It was not Galion's fault however that his master had little sense or manners for foreign dignitaries. He let a convincing smile cross his face, despite Oropher's slight, and his eyes sparkled with genuine kindness and interest to the younger elf.

"It pleases me to be able to see more of Greenwood. I thank your Lord for granting me such leisure in his lands and for the privilege of learning more about this forest." When Glorfindel really stopped and thought about it, spending the day with the handsome Galion didn't seem so bad at all, knowing as such that patience was a virtue.

Galion grinned and motioned for Glorfindel to follow him down the long and winding corridor. He led him to a small room where a table had been set for just one. Glorfindel took his seat and looked at Galion who stood nearby at attention.

"Would you not take a seat by me, please, Galion?" Glorfindel was not use to eating alone and he sincerely wanted the company. He was use to eating with Elrond, Gildor, and even Erestor with whom he always had a lively entertaining conversation during his meals. He felt a little homesickness not having his friends nearby and hoped that Galion would engage in dialogue with him to ease the strangeness of this foreign land.

"As you wish." Galion took a seat by Glorfindel and poured himself a cup of juice from the pitcher on the table. He watched Glorfindel's features curve into amusement, pleased that he was accompanying him for breakfast. With long slender fingers, he grasped the goblet of juice, only raising it to his mouth after Glorfindel had taken his own drink.

The morning's breakfast plate was a vibrant symphony of color; red and blue berries, and green and orange fruits were encircled around honey clustered grains. Glorfindel slowly ate, enjoying the flavorful berries and the sweet of the honey. The breakfast was good and Glorfindel chatted with Galion about the beautiful dawn he had watched this morning. He spoke of his excitement for the day's walk through the forest, expressing his want to see and learn all that he could. And Galion listened on, adding a word or two to the conversation, his insight sporadic but wittingly astute.

As breakfast came to a close, the two elves rose from the table ready to journey through the forest at Oropher's request. Glorfindel fell in stride beside Galion who guided him with little words towards a great wooden door that was opened as if by an invisible hand. A few stone steps led them down into the forest floor. Green blades of grass pocked through the ground, and the forest floor was lush with plants and brush.

"I think you will enjoy your day. The forest is strongly calling to my soul, and I am eager to walk amongst the trees today. It is not often I get leisure to do so." Galion paused, closing his eyes, breathing in the new day in communion with the woodlands around him. He took his time, as if he had forgotten Glorfindel, until he finally opened his eyes and peered back at Glorfindel. Motioning with his eyes for Glorfindel to follow him, he then took his steps towards a path that led deep into the thick of the forest.

Galion's pace was quick, the words he spoke as they walked were slurred as if wanting to fall into his native tongue. Glorfindel kept Galion's stride, listening to his thoughts. He somewhat expected Galion to take off into a sprint, arms cast back in his embrace to the forest. But with all of Galion's excitement to walk within the forest, he kept a steady pace, until he suddenly slowed his stride, bringing Glorfindel to pause before a strange and crooked tree whose branches were bare and broken.

"And what is this?" Glorfindel was puzzled, speaking his thoughts aloud. He continued to look at the pitiful tree, small and bent and out of place amongst the giant trees that dwarfed it.

Galion motioned for Glorfindel to sit with him beneath the small shadow of the tree. "This tree? It is really nothing. The reason I am tarrying here is to have you look exactly from this spot." He pointed with his left hand from the direction they had walked.

Glorfindel turned his head and the sight that greeted him took his breath away. Somehow he hadn't noticed the path that Thranduil had led him through the day before in the forest had been ever uphill. From this vantage point, the great forest could be seen to stretch beyond what he had ever imagined, a line of sight that had been lost to him from wherever he had looked before.

"How is this possible?"

"The forest has chosen to show you, that is all. It is no great magic or trick of eye. The forest is either your friend of foe. It will either guide you and protect you, or cause you disorientation until you are utterly lost. With all the great beauty of the forest, do not ever cease to forget it is a deadly wonder, a force of such deceit."

As his words were ending, a breeze stirred the leaves as if the forest wanted to add its own emphasis to Galion's words. The wind played the giant leaves in a chorus of cascading rustlings that swelled to a magnificent crescendo. Glorfindel had never heard such a glorious sound before. The music the forest made truly seemed ethereal. As with any elf, Glorfindel loved nature and felt a strong connection with the land. But never before had he felt so entranced by the woods before. The forest was bewitching and the strange elves who dwelt here also seemed to have spells of their own that could ensnarl lesser beings.

The image of the Greenwood's prince suddenly came to Glorfindel's mind. He imagined his long silver hair flowing in the wind, those enchanting emerald eyes sparkling at him with warmth, burning strong with desire.

Desire…

Glorfindel wondered what led his mind to think of such thoughts concerning Thranduil. It was true that Thranduil was enchanting like no other, although he barely knew him. But intrigue was something that Glorfindel usually followed and this time, the feelings burned bright, tantalizing him with a strange arousal.

"We should continue."

Galion's gentle voice, like the breeze that had blown through the forest, drew Glorfindel from his reverie, pulling his mind back into the forest and away from its prince. He noticed a knowing grin on Galion's face, as if he knew his thoughts exactly; as if they were naked to his eyes as the day, transparent and clear.

Glorfindel kept his face placid, following alongside Galion whose strange annunciation of the Sindarin words amused and delighted him through his walk within the forest. Galion's words of admiration mirrored much of what Thranduil had spoken of in their esteem of the forest. It was fully evident that the forest was an enchantress, and Glorfindel breathed deep the fragrances of the forest, wishing to know the woodlands as did the elves who called it home.

The trees were lush and denser now, the mountains nearby seemed ever taller. The calls of all that lived in the forest chimed in their midst, echoing strong around them. Ferns grew like small trees, their green leaves stretched far and high. And purple wildflowers bloomed with what little sun that filtered down from the leaves above. Ever further Galion led him on until a clearing opened up before them. Grasses as delicate as a wave in the sea rolled in the gentle winds.

"Who would have guessed?" Glorfindel mused aloud, circling with his face uplifted to the clear blue sky above them, dotted with sweeping clouds.

"This clearing is often used by our people at times of celebrations." Galion divulged a little information about the place where they stood. "It is one of the better places within this forest to count the stars in the clear night sky."

"I am sure this place is quite the sight when the stars are shining." Glorfindel did his best to picture it, closing his eyes now with doing so.

"Perhaps you may see it yet." Galion let his attention leave Glorfindel, and he walked towards the edge of the hill where he then strained his eyes and ears to the sounds he knew were coming from the archery practice spot. He hadn't known that Thranduil was out in the forest today.

Moving from his trance, Glorfindel also let his senses muse on the training that was being held beyond where they stood, down the hill. "Is that archery I hear?"

"Aye, its is, my Lord. The archers of Greenwood are the most skilled, I believe. Archery is an art to us."

"Could I be so honored to see?" Glorfindel beseeched him, curious to see the skill of the Greenwood archers. Weapons were Glorfindel's interest and the thought of watching the archers piqued his attention like the forest could not do. A presence called to him, drawing him with that unknown pull, as if a kindred spirit was just beyond the knoll.

Galion debated a little, knowing that Thranduil was there and he remembered Oropher's words about his unease with the dynamics between Thranduil and Glorfindel.

"If this is what you wish, please follow me." Galion was not sure why he led Glorfindel towards the training grounds. His walk there was a little unsure, but he had already committed to his choice and before he knew it, they were at another clearing where six archers were shooting arrows at various targets.

Glorfindel spotted Thranduil first, and he watched the graceful movements of the Greenwood archers, so effortless and mesmerizing, their bows an extension of their bodies and minds. And when they released the arrows, their flights were of such speed that the arrows were cast across the clearing towards the targets with deadly accurate force. The archers held their stances, their recoils were of such perfection, personified with the arrows now pierced through the centers of the targets.

Thranduil turned from the target, lowering his bow and titled his head, finally acknowledging Glorfindel.

"Lord Glorfindel."

He walked over to where the two stood, smiling with amusement that Glorfindel had came to their training grounds.

"Would you care to take archery with us today?" He extended his bow to Glorfindel, who smiled when he took it from Thranduil's hands. He watched as Glorfindel took his stance, and he was amused with this whole situation. The flight of the arrow danced through the air, singing Glorfindel's skill when the arrow struck the dead center of the target.

"You are highly skilled, my friend." Thranduil nodded with his approval, letting a long finger run through the fletching of an arrow. He kept his gaze on Glorfindel, eyes shining with the warmth of a budding interest that seemed to tease something more than just friendship.

Glorfindel laughed a little, and his chuckle was good-hearted before he spoke. "I believe not as skilled as our Greenwood kin, however." He handed the bow back to Thranduil, and he watched as Thranduil's eyes glittered with intrigue and emotions that seemed to covet something deep within.

"So tell me, my friend, what brings you out to this part of the forest today?" Thranduil placed both his hands atop the bow, holding it out an arm's length away from his body.

"Your King had requested I see the forest today and Galion was showing me around."

"I see." Thranduil was a bit surprised that Oropher hadn't called Glorfindel for a meeting, but then again, despite his love for his father and their similarities, it was hard for him to understand the reasoning that drove his father sometimes.

Thranduil leaned close to Galion, whispering words to him in that ancient tongue. Green orbs continued to bore into his own and Glorfindel knew that it was he whom Thranduil spoke of to Galion.

Galion bowed respectfully to Glorfindel, and he then took his leave from them by walking away from the clearing, disappearing back into the forest and supposedly back towards Oropher's halls.

"I told him to take the afternoon off." Thranduil finally explained. "Galion works so hard and as such has little time to enjoy his home. If the forest is what our King wants you to see, I am not so busy today to accompany you on this walk through it."

"I would like that very much." Glorfindel was pleasantly surprised that Thranduil took a direct interest in him today and was especially pleased that he had not gone back to the outer edges of their border.

"Good. The day is still new and I know just where I want to take you." Thranduil motioned for a sentry to bring him a satchel which he then handed over to Glorfindel.

"It holds a bit of lunch and some wine." Thranduil answered Glorfindel's questioning eyes. "The wine is most delectable and I am sure it will please you." Thranduil motioned for Glorfindel to follow him, and he led him from the clearing and once again the trees were thick and the path was narrow.

"I will not take you too far, my friend. This area I am taking you to will be the perfect place for a picnic. I will enjoy spending some more time with you."

"As will I." He walked along with Thranduil who was silent now. Glorfindel figured Thranduil wanted him to reflect on the woods and hear its voice.

It seemed an hour had passed in their hike and the sun was high in its midday position. The two had chatted with their walk, speaking about the forest mostly; of its flora and fauna. It was then that Glorfindel saw the spot that Thranduil had wanted to share with him. A pond with tranquil waters was surrounded with mossy rocks which were the size of boulders. The trees were still budded with delicate flowers, while others had leaves shaped as fans. The ferns were almost blue and released sweet fragrances into the area. A little sun shown down, but otherwise the area was covered in shade.

"Not many journey here." Thranduil's words were soft as if not to disturb the peace in the area. He took his bow and arrow from his back, setting them aside on the ground. The components of the satchel were then taken out and Glorfindel saw berries, bread, nuts, and fruits. A bottle of wine a pair of goblets also came to view from the satchel.

"You often carry two goblets, Thranduil?" Glorfindel chuckled a little wondering aloud about the customs of the Greenwoods elves.

"Why yes, I do." Thranduil's face was straight, his response was spoken in deadpan. "Do tell me, is this somewhat strange to you?" Thranduil seemed to think Glorfindel's questioning of his habits were bizarre.

"You were planning on having someone share your lunch then today?"

"My lunch, no, not so much." Thranduil smiled now before he continued. "A good bottle of wine, however, is something which should be shared. So yes, I normally do carry a pair of goblets with my wine when I am out, just in case there is someone worth while to share a glass with."

Glorfindel listened on to Thranduil's logic, nodding his head at the storage but thoughtful reasoning. "And does this happen often?" He curiously had to ask his host.

"No, never before have I done so." Thranduil listened to Glorfindel's laughter over his response. He let a smile cross his face, as there was no malice, just only the jovial mirth of someone with whom he would now call a friend. Allowing himself to also share in the humor, Thranduil grinned and poured first a glass of wine for Glorfindel before he filled one for himself. The food was spread onto a cloth and the two sat under the fragrant leaves, ready to have their lunch and enjoy the wine at leisure.

"The wine is good, is it not?" Thranduil let the sweet drink roll across his tongue, savoring the nectar of deep red.

"Yes, this is certainly delicious." Glorfindel couldn't think of a better wine he had ever had, even better than the ones from the night before. Nor could he think of a better setting for the lunch. The setting was peaceful, and the company was enchanting. He let himself swim in the depths of the jeweled eyes before him, musing over the mithril specks that shown as stars deep in their depths.

And Thranduil as well was admiring Glorfindel. The wine was potent and Glorfindel was very attractive. Thranduil already knew of the undeniable attraction he was having for him. But he knew his father would never approve, and he doubted that could do anything to attract such a mighty and fabled legend. With all his self-confidence, Thranduil knew that some attractions just do not come to pass, and with that reasoning it was easy for him to relax and just enjoy the moment, and not worry about trying to attract Glorfindel.

"Tell me about your home. I would like to know more about Imladris." Thranduil's request was spoken between the chewing of berries, breaking the silence within the clearing.

"You have never been?" Glorfindel didn't know why he seemed surprised with the fact that Thranduil had not been to Imladris, given his knowledge that Oropher held little love for the Noldor. He knew that Oropher's household had passed over the Misty Mountains into the Greenwood early in the Second Age, far before Imladris had been founded.

"That is correct. Not once have I been to Imladris but I have heard such esteem for the place from those who have seen it. My father's counsellers has been but they told me very little about it, you see. So of course, how could I not be curious to hear what you have to say about it, to know without a doubt what they say is true. Let me hear it from your own lips." He poured Glorfindel another drink and then refilled his own.

Nodding his head in gratitude, Glorfindel began to answer Thranduil's request on the impressions of his home. "Imladris, they call it the Last Homely House, nestled into a cliff with dozens of waterfalls spilling around it. The rooms are airy and open, so that nature is welcomed in. A great hall we call the Hall of Fire is the focal point, where everyone gathers, be it for song, for dance or simply to converse. We discuss the past, as the lore-masters in Imladris are great and always willing to share their knowledge of yesteryear. We debate about the present, of the vile in the land that is with ever worry and concern for we know the very freedoms of all people are now under threat. But we are elvish folk of course, and we love song. Our minstrels sing songs there of hope and love, of bravery and sacrifice, of beginnings and of endings. Imladris is a refuge for the weary, to serve as a sanctuary amidst the chaos and evil that threatens our lands. Lord Elrond is its protector, a wise soul for whom I hold in high regard and am proud to serve."

"Yes, I know Elrond." Thranduil could easily agree with Glorfindel's accolades for Elrond. "I dwelt in Lindon before we passed over the mountains into the east. I always found him to be delightful and good company. It brings me no surprise to learn that he has constructed a dwelling so enchanting and mighty. I am sure as the years fall ever forward that I too shall come to know Imladris for myself and then I can make my own impressions of the place."

"We would love to have you visit us Thranduil. I could then return your hospitality and show you around my home. I know you will like it there very much. The pines are fragrant and the river is ever mighty, the waterfalls create a magnificent symphony, pooling into a shared crescendo that can uplift any jaded heart."

"This home of yours must be very beautiful indeed. I very much believe I will see it yet before the passing of my life." Thranduil's expression suddenly darkened, the mirth in his eyes clouded over, as if what joy he had evaporated, replaced with thoughts that reflected his own demise. Green eyes closed with the weight of his thoughts and what joy he had was now replaced with dark forbidding worry.

"What is it Thranduil?" Glorfindel had to inquire, the change in the other was very drastic, like a cool summer day turning to storm. "What brings your expression to darken so in which the light from your eyes cease to shine?"

"I have dreams sometimes, Glorfindel." Thranduil found it easy to to confide his deepest secrets to the other. "I know a dark day will soon be on us. I have seen the sun turn red with thousands of blood spilled from our kin. I have heard in my dreams the screams of death and of a dark presence who would annihilate us all. And in my dreams I believe I have seen my own death. I see laying dead in the marshes my own reflection, silver hair flowing around a dark face in death shadow, with green eyes that shine with no light of life. I wake with such a forbidding worry that somehow this will come to pass." Thranduil was silent, eyes honest and imploring a response from Glorfindel.

"And you think who you see is really you?"

"I believe the one in the death sleep from my dream is me, yes. Not many have silver hair and eyes the green of mine. Now I know dreams do not always come to pass and that my death may not be imminent, but it does pose to caution, that someone may die for whom I hold dear. Their death could always be personified with my reflection since dreams are often ambiguous. I do not have the gift of foresight as strong as others, but what the Valar do reveal to me has always come to pass."

Glorfindel listened on, understanding where the dark dream stemmed from. It was from that very same reason that Gil-galad had sent him to the Greenwood. The foul of Sauron grew ever stronger, his power grew and spread, until he had waged a war on the elves of Eregion whose wounds still bleed even with the passing of time. The need for all the elves to unite was pressing and Glorfindel knew he could not let this mission fail. He would have continued thinking the doleful thoughts but Thranduil pulled his attention solely on him.

"Ah." Thranduil suddenly sat his goblet down, before falling back onto the soft grass in the clearing, long silver hair spilling in every which direction as if to personify his fragmented mind. "The day is beautiful and I wish not to dwell on such dark matters. A time will come for that but not this day." He rolled onto his stomach locking eyes with Glorfindel, smiling with bright eyes that beckoned for Glorfindel to switch his mind to more light-hearted jovial thoughts.

"If this is your aim now, I certainly can converse with whatever topic you desire to speak on." Glorfindel was a little bemused with how Thranduil suddenly changed again back to the whimsical elf he had been earlier this day.

"Yes, this is what I wish, for I would hate to send you away with only dreary thoughts of the Greenwood when the land is ensorcelling in all its beauty. And I would certainly feel grief, yes grief, if you thought the people of this land were stubborn and disheartening, woeful and somber. Certainly I should be mindful to be good company today, especially when I sent the charming Galion off to what ever catches his fancy today. He really is a wonderful one, is he not? I wonder perhaps if you would have had him stay as your guide, considering we are not really walking about any more in this great forest. But then again, Galion certainly does not have such good wine. The wine is good, yes, is it not?"

Thranduil seemed to babble now with discorded tangents but Glorfindel followed along, letting his thoughts keep pace with Thranduil's spinning mind. His sparking emerald eyes then focused with Glorfindel's, expecting an answer to his words.

"Yes, the wine is good, and yes, I do find I like Galion, and I can certainly say that I am glad to have your company today, and I have only positive thoughts of the Greenwood and its people." Glorfindel hoped he had answered the questions in the train of thought Thranduil had rolled off his tongue. He was not use to such dialogue.

"Such things you say I wonder if just to humor me." Thranduil took to his feet and moved over to the pond, dipping a long finger into the still waters. He kept his back to Glorfindel who watched him from a distance, before he lowered his eyes to his goblet, examining the delicate design of the metal. The cold wind blew suddenly now, rustling the trees which dropped the delicate petals around their luncheon spot, but Thranduil did not heed it, fully engrossed with Glorfindel for whom had stolen his entire attention.

"Please speak your peace with me. Tell me everything that runs through your head." Thranduil's words snapped Glorfindel back to his attention alone.

Glorfindel found himself laughing now, wondering what games Thranduil was trying to play. "Oh Thranduil, I speak with all honesty. I like it here, and I am finding myself to especially like you. I have not met anyone like you and I mean that with only esteem and admiration. There is no malice in my words." His face was palpable, eyes reflecting the truth of the words, and Thranduil's smile relayed that he was at least pleased with this response.

But instead of replying to his statement Thranduil, gazed deep into the pond, watching as the still surface had turned from placidity to the now choppy waves from the increasing wind.

"We should head back."

Thranduil could hear the wind in the distance increase in its intensity. Glorfindel also could hear it and together they understood that a storm was moving in. Even distant as it was, it did not take long for the thunder to boom across the lands, slowly becoming more audible to their far-hearing ears. With haste they picked up their provisions from the earlier picnic, packing it back into the satchel. Thranduil retrieved his bow and arrows and as the wind began to assault the trees around them. They soon began their way back to Oropher's halls, making as much speed as they could.

"I am not very certain we will make it back before the storm hits. These early summer storms move fast and manifest with such force and power."

Glorfindel knew that Thranduil's words to be true and kept his pace as quick as he could. The wind began picking up with ever more intensity and with its biting venom, grew ever colder. The trees moaned with the force of the storm, dropping their leaves and branches around the dashing elves. Bits of sky was shown and the elves could see it was dark now, a deep grayish green color that hid the sun. The thunder boomed louder and closer but the two could move no quicker.

A giant crack and flash of lightning so violent now lit the sky and forest, and then as if it were a prelude, the cold rain poured down from the skies. Knowing that they had to take shelter, Thranduil grabbed Glorfindel's hand, tugging him towards a giant tree, whose slow decay had created a hollowed center in its broken trunk. Glorfindel was motioned by Thranduil to enter into the trunk, before he placed some fallen branches with great giant leaves over its broken top. He secured them down although with much difficulty due to the unrelenting wind and heavy rain.

After he had finished making the quick roof for their shelter he entered inside the trunk where Glorfindel sat bunched up. They were cramped but sheltered and gratefully out of the storm that continued to pound the forest around them. Both looked at one another, silently agreeing to stay here until the wrath of the storm had passed them by.

"I was not expecting that." Glorfindel leaned his head against the wood, feeling some rain trickle down his collar and into his tunic, tickling its way down his back.

Thranduil only nodded, embarrassed that he had failed to take notice of the subtle signs the forest had relayed to him about the impending storm. He tried to wring some of the rain from his hair, moving the silver strands away from his face.

Both were soaked but now safe in this shelter out of the storm. Outside their makeshift shelter of the large tree trunk, the storm grew ever angrier, lightning flashed in quick succession and the thunder was so mighty that the whole of the land shook within its voice. With all the violence of the storm neither could converse, as their attention instead fixated on the fury of nature and its ferocious raw power.

Glorfindel kept his eyes on Thranduil, who peered at the forest from a small hole in the tree trunk. His face was covered in rain that dripped from his hair and down from the leafy roof that leaked the rain down on them. His eyes were dark, and a bit of mud was smeared on the side of his face. His hair was in disarray with leaves and earth tangled in, and his clothes were in no better shape. Glorfindel knew that he as well looked like Thranduil did, and he had to stifle a chuckle, although he doubted Thranduil would be able to hear his laugh amidst the screams of the storm.

The storm seemed to last forever, as if even the strong winds that had propelled it could not move it from over the Greenwood. Glorfindel thought they would have to spend a night in this tree trunk, but this proved not to be the case. Just as it came, the storm began to subside, rolling on beyond the lands that the wood-elves called their home. The lightning struck elsewhere, the thunder was far less deafening and the rain fell more gentler now.

"We survived." Glorfindel laughed. The situation brought great humor to him.

Both were still soaked and they were still covered in earth and the bits of the forest. Glorfindel followed Thranduil out from the trunk, back into the forest. Branches were scattered on the forest floor and as they continued to make their way back to Oropher's capital, they noticed some trees had been broken in half from the might of the storm.

Thranduil looked over at Glorfindel. "I am sorry to have got you caught out in that storm. I should have paid more mind to the clues the forest was giving me and paid more attention to the shift of the wind. I am much better with that typically."

"Do not fret." Glorfindel gave Thranduil a reassuring smile before reaching over to pluck a leaf that was tangled within his silver-strands. "I believe we were so caught up with the good of our company little else could capture our attention."

"You are right in your assessment of the situation." Thranduil stopped walking, his eyes imploring Glorfindel to look into his own. "I find you fascinating, Glorfindel. I like your company and being with you. I am sure you have heard this from others all the time, but I mean it, all the same."

"That may be, however, it means a lot coming from you Thranduil." Glorfindel wondered again about Thranduil. He wondered if this one could perhaps have a growing attraction to him. The thought amused and strangely excited him. But he could not muse long on those thoughts, for a small group of Silvan elves had approached them.

"Prince Thranduil, there you are. The King was concerned when you and Lord Glorfindel were not in his halls during the wrath of the storm." They took the sight of the two were in, with obvious relief on their faces that their beloved prince had turned up unhurt.

Thranduil smiled at the group, and he handed his bow and arrows off to one of the elves. "We were caught up in the storm, but we are unharmed. We head now back to our chambers to get cleaned up. I know we must look a freight." He chatted on with others who expressed again their pleasure of his safety. They walked with them back to the citadel. Glorfindel could easily see that the elves adored Thranduil. They seemed to gravitate to him as if he was a bright shining star and and his aura was magnetic. The elves all took their turns speaking to him, and they ignored Glorfindel's presence.

  
The group finally reached Oropher's citadel, which stood tall and unfazed by the storm that had passed. Standing on the steps which were covered in puddles was Oropher himself, who looked displeased when they approached him. They all bowed deep, not expecting that the King be present on their return, and they looked back at him awaiting a statement or comment.

The King's face was covered in anger and Thranduil knew it was directed solely at him. And when Oropher bade everyone else depart except for Thranduil, his assumption was confirmed.

"Come my child." The words were cold, spoken to deride Thranduil, letting him know that he had invoked his father's wrath. Thranduil followed his King into his private halls that led to his most secretive chambers. These rooms were often used to discuss serious matters where prying ears could gain no insight for what was meant to stay secret. He was led into a room and a heavy door of oak was shut behind him.

"Sit." His father's voice moved him to take his seat on a small chair, made of wood and carved with delicate carvings. His father watched him sit and then wasted no time with getting to the points he needed to make.

"Tell me, is there anything to report on the Lord Glorfindel?"

Thranduil shook his head no to this question, knowing better than to speak at this moment. His father's expression showed no kindness, eyes cold and set, lips pressed firmly together. Oropher kept the uneasy silence, freezing his son with his unwavering stare. With stinging words, the King finally continued.

"I was told you had sent the guide I picked for Glorfindel away, taking it solely upon yourself to waste your day with the Noldo instead of training your mind and body." His father's words were as cold as ice, stern and biting in hopes that they would tear into Thranduil's heart and mind.

"These are vile times in which we live, Thranduil, and as an independent realm we must be vigilant and strong, ever ready for whatever foe may come at us. You have brought great disappointment from me today and have angered me. And that is not even weighing in that with your frivolous infatuation with the Noldo, you could not even use what I had taught you with reading the forest and lands to know that a mighty storm was approaching. You could have been hurt and that Noldo could have been as well. That is something I do no want on the Greenwood's hands, having Gil-galad accuse us of any malcontent towards his dignitary."

The anger that Oropher expressed steamed from a deep rooted love for his son. His son was no longer considered young, but had lived for many years now. Even with his great age, Oropher felt such a protective pull over Thranduil. He often found himself chiding and lecturing him, as he hoped to mold Thranduil into a strong leader as he was. Oropher knew that what crossed into his mind was the correct corse of action for Thranduil. It was time his son learned to leave behind his carefree attitude and act as as Oropher did.

"Now I have said what needed to be said." Oropher looked his only son over. His long silver- hair was completely in disarray, tangled with bits of the forest still. He was covered in earth and his clothes were still damp from the storm. Oropher loved his son deep within, but Thranduil had way too much of his mother in him. She had been a wild gentle soul who was quick to enjoy the good of life instead of pondering and reflecting on the events on the horizon. And Thranduil was just like her.

As much as Oropher wanted to lecture his son, he took pity on him, dismissing him to go clean himself up and change into dry clean clothing before the evening meal. He watched Thranduil bow before departing and Oropher knew that the time Thranduil knew of joy and carefree days in the forest were over. The time had come for his only son to learn how to be a king, for deep in Oropher's heart he knew that something dark was surely going to come to pass. His son needed  
more structure and responsibility. Oropher knew that the choice he now made was only for the good of Thranduil and ultimately the good of Greenwood and for their people.

\-----------

Glorfindel had reached his chambers with the help of a servant who had blushed slightly when he had asked her to guide him there. The endless halls were still confusing to him and with the curves of the organic design, he found himself easily disoriented as if Oropher had purposely constructed it this way to play with the mind's of his visitors. He actually wouldn't put it past Oropher, he mused while he pulled off his wet and soiled clothing. No bath had been drawn for him, so he had to wash with just the water basin in the room. But it served its purpose well allowing him to clean the days events away. He was soon dressed again in clean dry clothing and seated himself on a comfortable chair near an open window.

Letting the events of the day run through his head, Glorfindel found himself now musing on shining green eyes bright like gems. He held the image long within his thoughts, refusing to let it dissipate from his mind. Thranduil was like no other he had met before, and what intrigued him the most was the way in which Thranduil had regarded him, letting the warmth of his soul shine in his bewitching eyes, painting the world with his beautiful soul, which shone with an aura that Glorfindel had not seen before.

Glorfindel had enjoyed the time with him very much and had taken delight with his unusual personality which had mirrored the days events, changing as quickly as the storm that blow in. To Glorfindle, Thranduil was stunning. He was someone for whom Glorfindel could find himself calling a friend, and possibly, he mused, could even act on his attraction to the him.

But then again there was the father. Oropher's face flashed into his mind, his obtuse expressions and eyes as cold as ice scoffed at him. The father was nothing like the son. His spirit was strong, his resolve was efficacious, for which Glorfindel knew would be a major obstacle with any dealings he may have with Thranduil.

The years had passed, but Oropher still held his anger, his strong disdain was as obdurate as ever. What enmity he held towards the Noldor, Glorfindel could not understand. The years had passed, the kinslayers had already had the Valar's judgement passed on them. But yet for Oropher the wounds still bleed. With all of his wisdom, Glorfindel knew there was more to his story for which he would have to learn if he was ever going to find a way to gain his trust.

Glorfindel let his mind focus back on Thranduil. Elrond had told him that he would be an ally, someone who could aid him with this task. He remembered his Lord's words, though brief had they been the day he had departed. He had learned that Thranduil was a gentle soul, full of life and love and warm to friendship. But Elrond had also cautioned that he was quick to change, his moods often rolling like the tides across a choppy sea. He had witnessed just a little of his fluctuating thoughts, how he danced from mood to mood. But Glorfindel didn't find it worrisome. Instead he found he rather liked the eccentric prince, and hoped the King would not see to sunder them for the rest of his stay.

A strong knock sounded on his door and Glorfindel complied with the summoning, opening it shortly to see Galion's friendly face.

"Dinner is now ready, my Lord."

Thanking him for reminding him, Glorfindel then followed Galion to the same dining hall he had been brought to thus far for the duration of his stay. However unlike last time, Oropher and Thranduil did not join him, and he ate amongst the others of the King's court, who politely made small talk with him. As much as they spoke, the dinner passed with its uneventful dialogue, slowly blurring in its mindless hour. The Greenwood elves spoke of nothing and often in circles; words void of joyful thoughts or of welcoming. Glorfindel was surprised that the wood-elves could even be anything other than merry and lighthearted. It was all Oropher's doing, he mused, as his hospitality had not yet been extended to him yet, this outside intruder. But Glorfindel would not let his spirit break, and he kept his smile wide, words filled with mirth despite the reluctance attitudes around him.

Eating his fill, Glorfindel shortly excused himself, not really surprised when the others seemed to pay his departure with little protest. He did not walk back to his rooms, but instead stepped outside, letting the good of the night forest wash over him.

A woodland garden he remembered passing was his destination this early night, and it did not take him long to reach it. The pines and the cool of the earth filled his senses, and the night sky was light with flickering lights from hundreds of fireflies around him. The night was so tranquil that soon he found himself relaxed and calm, and he knew that this night his dreams would find him without trouble.


	4. It Is Rising

On the second day since Glorfindel's arrival to the Greenwood, he had seen little more of Oropher than that first night's dinner and the one last time, when Oropher had shown his angered presence on the steps. Oropher had only dismissed him coldly, with eyes that derided and judged him. The rest of the encounters had only been from afar with no acknowledgement from the ruler of the Greenwood. Glorfindel wondered if today Oropher would finally give him the time of day. He pushed away the words that Thranduil had spoken to him about being patient and setting his actions with that of Oropher's pace. But Glorfindel could only frown with that logic. Sauron would not give them all the time that was required when one was dealing with Greenwood's King. Sauron was rising and the time to align was now.

Feeling a slight ache in his head and needing to unwind, Glorfindel let his thoughts meander to Thranduil, whose face came to vision within his thoughts. He could only smile. Funny how such troubling thoughts could so quickly subside when the image of his new friend crossed his mind. The good that was Thranduil was so refreshing to him, he who was in this strange forest of enchantment and deceit.

"Patience." He heard Thranduil whisper to him from afar, and Glorfindel stilled his racing thoughts in his meditation. Now finding himself sitting on the edge of his bed, he tried his best to find that very patience that was needed to work with Oropher.

But ever still, the knowing of just how important this meeting with Oropher was stirred him to wanting to take immediate action. He knew the threat to their people from Sauron was pressing. They had just not so long ago fought with Sauron's forces in the war against their kin. The pain and loss they had suffered was testament now that they all needed to put aside their differences and hurt which had resulted from the past. He had to find a way to convince Oropher to pledge his alliance with their High-King. Glorfindel knew Oropher was a good leader, smart and cared greatly for his people. And he knew that Oropher must know that they were not immune from the evil of Sauron. Although these people had nothing to do with the rings of power and seemed out of the Dark Lord's mind for the time being, soon, evil too would be knocking at their door. Glorfindel knew Oropher could sense it. That ever wary gaze that Oropher gave when that evil was mentioned echoed that very knowing.

As much as Glorfindel wished to think of other things, he could not shake the thought that meeting with Oropher and getting him to agree to align was of the upmost importance and urgency. This meeting had to commence without tarry. But then again the warning that Thranduil had whispered entered his mind, and he wondered if his haste and impatience might draw the king to anger. He wished he knew more about Oropher. Knowledge is power and leverage he knew. With what little he had learned he had found Oropher to be almost unreadable, and a strong formidable ruler who used his own will.

Glorfindel knew the task he had been appointed would be difficult at best and he knew he was considered amongst the wisest of the elves, mighty and noble. But Glorfindel also had reservations and his own inner doubts that sometimes rendered him into the strangest of moods that left him as a mere shadow of his usual self. He would have thought that with all his years he would have learned to control his emotions better that rendered him into these moods. His heart would fall into dissatisfaction until his reasoning even questioned the assessment that others had determined that he possessed; his courage, his valor, his wisdom and nobleness.

He had always been a complicated one, often setting his actions as one person while his mind and thoughts were of another. And his moods grew ever more complicated when his thoughts turned towards attraction to others. It was Thranduil he knew who was causing his confusion. Thranduil was enchanting, but with as much as he wanted to fully experience him, Oropher was the issue. It was the father, not the son, for whom Glorfindel needed to win over. And Oropher's distance and disregard were issues thus far making this task downright impossible.

Knowing that the day would not delay while he looped through his thoughts, Glorfindel readied himself for it. He had not yet gone for breakfast and he felt hunger this morning. Last night's dinner had been sorely lacking with any company as both Oropher and Thranduil had been absent. He had eaten with the company of one of Oropher's advisors, whose sobriety had made conversation almost impossible and his dryness made even the distant Erestor seem downright friendly and humorous. Glorfindel had to eat his dinner in mostly silence. His questions went unanswered, and his statements were returned with only dour stares. He wondered if the advisor's coldness was of Oropher's doings, and wondered if Oropher had even bothered to ask those closest to him to be friendly towards him.

Dinner had settled with unease and dissatisfaction which had in turned caused his dreams to torment him through the night due to his frustrations with the King of Greenwood. He understood fully now why the others had told him little of Oropher. Although both he and Oropher had lived during the First Age, he had been in Gondolin, while Oropher had dwelt in Doriath, the hidden secluded realm where the culture of mistrust and shunning the Noldor was the decree of King Thingol. Glorfindel was sure Oropher still associated the Noldor with the Kin-slaying and although Glorfindel had taken no part with it, he knew Oropher trusted him not. It was only natural that the other Sindar in this realm treat him with coldness, scorn and mistrust.

"Stay patient and positive." He chided himself for his impatience, rising from his bed.

This new day was about to begin. Just as the day before, he dressed himself as nice as possible hoping to elicit even a small bit of attention from Oropher. He remembered where breakfast was served and walked into the room. Galion was in there overseeing the layout of the breakfast plates. Galion's face was slightly blushed as he directed the organized chaos of the breakfast room. Glorfindel watched while he barked orders in that strange elvish tongue, moving the lines of elves into different directions. His clear brown eyes widened when he turned and saw Glorfindel. But to Galion's credit he composed himself quickly.

"Ah, Lord Glorfindel, my apologies. You are early. We have not finished setting your plate at the breakfast table." Galion hurried the other elves to move quicker, shooting an apologetic look to Glorfindel.

"It is quite alright Galion, I arrived early on purpose." He noted that once again just his plate was being set at the table. "I was hoping that the King would join me today for breakfast. Is he currently engaged today?"

"Ah, yes. Our King is still kept in dialogue today regarding our trades. He once again regrets he can not address the High-King's messages today."

Glorfindel again kept his face composed, his voice ever calm.

"And the prince?" Glorfindel was not sure why he had asked about Thranduil

"Thranduil?" Galion let his eyes meet Glorfindel's wondering why he inquired on the son of Oropher.

"Yes Thranduil. Is he also to be involved in the meetings today or will he be available to at least discuss some parts of why I traveled here."

"I do not know our prince's schedule today. I am his King's butler, so I really do not know Thranduil's business or what he has planned. I do not believe he will be present for the meeting today, however."

The elves had finished with setting the breakfast plates, and Galion motioned for Glorfindel to take his seat. Just as with the morning before, Galion accepted Glorfindel's request to dine with him. They chatted more easily this time, with carefree talk about the walk they had the day before.

Despite the mistrust that Oropher had with this visitor, Galion found that he liked Glorfindel. He was polite and witty, his humor was refreshing and he treated him as more a cohort than a servant in Oropher's house. What troubled Galion about Glorfindel however, was the budding interest that shared between him and his prince. Despite Oropher's request, Galion decided to turn a blind eye to their budding attraction. His love and loyalty to Thranduil was stronger than any order from Oropher. The same friendliness and warmth that Glorfindel had, Thranduil too shared with him, even taking him as his close friend.

Glorfindel was pleased that the lovely Galion seemed more lighthearted and at ease in his presence. The breakfast went by quickly and as it ended, Glorfindel suddenly looked at Galion wondering what to do with his day. During breakfast he had divulged that the meeting Oropher would be attending today was not scheduled until the afternoon. He wonder if perhaps he could find Oropher this morning to at least get his own meeting scheduled with him. If he could just get Oropher's attention on the matter, Glorfindel thought his restlessness would be settled, for the moment.

He excused himself from Galion, stating that he wished to sit outside in one of the forest gardens he had seen. Although Galion had raised a curious eyebrow, he let Glorfindel go without saying a word.

Of course Glorfindel felt bad for misleading Galion but he knew that he would try to deter him from this idea. He'd go sit in the gardens afterwords to at least be true to his words. First he wanted to see to his task of finding the evasive Greenwood King. With just the few days he had been in Greenwood, Glorfindel had seen Oropher often turn down a certain hallway and thus he thought it would be best to start at this corridor in his attempts to find him.

Glorfindel had turned down many halls in his walk, passing door after door until he reached another corridor with stairs that led up and down. Glorfindel sighed and decided to head upwards, climbing the steep steps that wound upwards. On the next level he passed into a hall that was beautiful to his eyes. The hall had soaring archways with walls that had big wide windows producing vistas of the grand forest around them. Glorfindel instantly liked this spot and wondered if this could be the corridor that led to Oropher's rooms.

"And why would the Lord Glorfindel be standing in the halls that house my father's counsellors?" Thranduil had again approached him unheard, his bright face smiling in this brand new morning. "If you are seeking them out, I can tell you that they have already left for their morning meetings with the King."

"So Oropher is indeed engaged again all day today." Glorfindel mused aloud, knowing that Thranduil already knew his aim.

"You seek Oropher." Thranduil laughed a little, shaking his head. Glorfindel was willful and stubborn and Thranduil wanted to teach him some patience.

"My friend, walk with me." Thranduil motioned for Glorfindel to follow him. He led him to another corridor with a grand spiraling staircase.

"This is my favorite area of my father's halls." Thranduil started speaking, leading him into a room that was opened into a large balcony, a platform where the views of the forest provided it from all around. The wind was gentle, and the sun was pleasant as it started its assent higher into the pale blue sky. They seated themselves on a bench, since it was evident that Thranduil had words he wanted to speak with Glorfindel.

"I apologize that I was not present for dinner last night. " Thranduil decided an explanation to his new friend was in order. "There was an unexpected incident on our southern borders and of course I was required to be present when our guards gave their report. I hope your dinner was pleasant enough?"

"I do hope all is well." Glorfindel noticed that Thranduil nodded in response to his statement. "Dinner was pleasant enough, although I have to admit your presence was sorely missed."

"You flatter me, my friend. Now…" Thranduil grew ever graver in his tone.

"I would not recommend your course of action. Let Oropher come to you. The importance of this alliance demands your patience. In the years that have passed since Doriath fell, my father has little relented in his distrust of the Noldor. But I see him looking to the east, I hear him whisper of that evil that is growing. Most of his counsellors believe that the dark lord will overlook these lands, but Oropher knows this can not be true. I have to believe that he will join in the fight against this growing malice. I honestly believe one elven people should unite for our freedoms. And this will come to pass if you can get Oropher to fight under the High-King. But he can not be forced or pushed into alliance. He must come to act on his own terms."

Glorfindel had to agree, and he remembered how Elrond had requested that he seek Thranduil out. "Your words ring with such wisdom and foresight, Thranduil. I understand now why Elrond beseech that I seek you out. I do need to act with more thought and patience. Thank you for reminding me of that."

Thranduil laughed when he thought of Elrond. "Elrond thinks that highly of me, even after all of these years?" He seemed to let his mind travel to another time, and Glorfindel could see it was good memories that sparkled in the depths of his emerald eyes.

"How well do you know Elrond then?" Glorfindel was a little curious about their history. Elrond had told him nothing of the past with Oropher or Thranduil, and Erestor as well had stated nothing about it.

"Well," Thranduil ran a finger over his bottom lip, as he tried to think of where to begin.

"We both lived in Lindon at the beginning of this age, of course before my father traveled eastward. I resided in the south, in Harlond, and he to the north in Gil-galad's court. I had an interest in the healing arts, and as such, I dwelt in Farlond for a time, and it was during my studies that I had first met Elrond. Although we studied side by side, we did not speak much beyond the subject that we were studying."

Thranduil smiled at the memory, before he continued. "But then Gil-galad had sent him once to discuss matters that concerned Harlond. Erestor came as well with him. I remember that particular time with him, because Elrond had been so troubled. We spent a whole day conversing, and I did my best to lighten his mood. It was during that day that I learned so much about him....."

Thranduil suddenly stopped, not really caring much to discuss Elrond further. He closed his eyes, and a frown now crossed his face, as his thoughts suddenly meandered to another topic that was spinning in his mind.

"Maybe I could get my father to at least agree to dine with you tonight." His thoughts moved back to the High-King's business, his heart was heavy again with the dark of his dreams. He did not fight where his thoughts now drifted, back into the nightmare that had woken him up. That last night, he again had that forbidding dream:

The day had been full of strife before a marshy field. Shadow figures moved together in a death dance until the night descended on them. A blood moon rose over him, the lone standing person who had survived the fight. He was alone he knew, although the dead lay around him. Faceless figures of monsters, gnarled and grotesque hindered his movements. He kept walking not really sure where he was going until the cold-blooded light of the moon led him to a path. And there again as his dreams always led him, were the lantern bodies he knew so well. He was in a trance and in his dream he looked down into the lifeless green eyes, flowing silver-hair, staring deep until the lips moved, calling out his name. "Thranduil."

He had awoken, the bright moon was still high in the sky. He shook the dream from his mind, casting it out as quickly as he could. He had sat long in the late night, sitting atop this very spot where he and Glorfindel now sat and watched a glorious sunrise. That dream had left him worried, disheartened and troubled with the knowing that he could little control or change the outcomes of the vision. That knowing without the power to stop the events left him disenchanted, and restless.

Glorfindel's melodic voice pulled him back to the present, his green eyes looked into Glorfindel's blue orbs.

"Where did you go just now?" Glorfindel asked with concern.

"Ah, Glorfindel, I was simply lost in a reverie. Still it is too early for my mind to wander."

Thranduil gave his friend a reassuring smile. "I can only stress again how important it is to see that your task does not fail. You certainly can break through to my father, for I worry that if you do not, ruin will come to our people." His green eyes seemed to ponder, while he deliberated on his next words.

"As you know, Oropher is just as concerned as Gil-galad is with the aggressive and strong threat of the Dark Lord. I have no doubt that our King will challenge him. What brings me to worry is that if we do not align, our isolation will cause us death beyond reprieve."

Glorfindel took Thranduil's hand in his own, squeezing it a little knowing his words stemmed from the dark dreams he had. "I will do everything I can to ensure an alliance. I would not have your fears come to pass."

A smile now replaced the worry that had been etched across Thranduil's face. Again the usual sparkle deep within his eyes returned, repossessing the frosty dark emerald stones that had showed his distress. The two looked at one another, and as if each could reach each others thoughts the two spoke in unison.

"What will we do today?"

Laughing, Thranduil bid Glorfindel to rise. "You have seen much of the forest and although there is ever more to see, that will be saved for another day."

"So no more trekking around the forest today?"

Despite the beauty of Greenwood, Glorfindel was a little glad that his day would be spent in another activity.

"No, I do not believe so. You have been traveling and walking around much of yesterday so perhaps a day of leisure will be good. Would a game interest you perhaps?"

"A game?" Glorfindel had to admit the idea was appealing and sounded good to him. With Thranduil's dark dreams, and the annoyance he felt from the Greenwood King's disregard of him, the two needed some fun this day. "

Are you thinking archery or swords? Or maybe something like chess or cards?"

"Either one is fine with me, so as our guest, the choice is all yours." Thranduil turned the decision back to Glorfindel.

"I would very much like to test my skill against yours in a game of chess, my friend." Glorfindel challenged Thranduil, who raised an eyebrow  with his amusement.

"Most certainly then, please follow me, if chess is what you desire." Down the spiral stairs and through more halls, Thranduil led Glorfindel. The design was maddening to him as he knew he could easily become lost within the massive citadel. A hall he had not seen before they now passed through which led then to a wooden door that Thranduil opened.

"This is my sitting room." Thranduil explained. "Now, since the day is so beautiful I think it would be criminal for me to keep you shut inside."

He grabbed two chairs and took them out onto his balcony, setting them down on the wooden platform. He then came back into the room to see that Glorfindel had already grabbed the chess table and with amused eyes he watched him cary it outside onto the balcony.

"I have to say I also agree. This is a perfect setting for our match, although I do hope that the beauty of your forest does not keep me too distracted."

"I am sure you will fair just fine, my friend." Thranduil held a velvet pouch from which he pulled out the different chess pieces. He placed them with an almost elegance on the board, arranging them in their rightful places.

They seated themselves ready to play, both staring at each other, wordlessly wondering just what sort of game this would turn out to be. Thranduil motioned for Glorfindel to make his move first, and he watched under lidded eyes as Glorfindel selected his piece before making his move.

"Something will just not leave my mind." Thranduil stated when he moved his chess piece, his emerald eyes demanding Glorfindel's attention.

"And what is that, my friend?" Glorfindel paused a little, more interested in the question more so than his next move.

Thranduil continued on, eyes still on Glorfindel, not really caring what move the other would make on the chess board. "That first day I saw you, I noticed a spark of recognition in your eyes. We have never met before, so tell me, what was that light I saw in your eyes?"

Glorfindel finally made his move and wondered what Thranduil would think of his dream. "That is a strange question you ask, however, the response is even stranger still."

"How so?" Thranduil was fully intrigued now, and made his next movement with very little thought. His green eyes were glued on Glorfindel, sparkling bright with his intrigue.

Glorfindel tried not to laugh at this most strange game of chess. He was use to the serious Erestor who pondered and analyzed until the other knew exactly what moves Glorfindel would next make, even before he, himself did. Erestor hardly spoke when they played, more intent on the analyses of the game than on conversation. But Thranduil played a different way, seemingly more interested in him and in chat, barely paying any mind or thought to the game before them. He continued, answering the question that Thranduil had asked.

"On my journey to the Greenwood, one night I was not weary so I thought of this forest. I let my mind go over it, trying to imagine what greatness it held. And then I am not sure why, as if cast under an enchantment, I fell into sleep. I dreamt of the Greenwood. And in that dream I saw the deep green leaves that as if out from them, drawn to life, eyes that shone like jewels and hair as bright as Ithil's silver glow. Somehow I dreamt of you, as if you had cast yourself into my dreams. But surely you could not come to someone's dreams for whom you have never met before?"

He looked deep into Thranduil's eyes, who did not answer in his smile. "Still, somehow I can not shake my thoughts that it was you." Glorfindel added to his statement that he had suspected that it was Thranduil who had cast that dream into his mind. Glorfindel then continued with the game, eyes darting back on Thranduil however.

Thranduil kept his silence for awhile, as if waiting for the right time to respond to the words Glorfindel had just spoken. He brushed his finger against his chest piece, but paused before gripping it.

"Would it not surprise you if I told you that it was the forest that gave you the vision? The forest is an enchantress, and seems as well would have your mission come to pass. I do not think she wants her people harmed." He suddenly looked down at the board, as if he suddenly perceived that a chess game was commencing.

"The forest." Glorfindel mused aloud. Greenwood indeed had called to his soul, sharing with him a vision of an ally, a kindred spirit for whom the forest shared a deep connection with. "It makes perfect sense to me, actually. I am learning day by day just how powerful this forest is."

"As with any power, it draws its strengths from the good of the earth. If evil ever threatens it, I fear the forest will take on a different character all together, as if it may yet embrue a different more frightening master."

"You think the forest could fall into shadow?" Glorfindel was alarmed a little with the forbidding cryptic words that Thranduil had spoken.

"Ever northward we have moved, and that threat has not yet reached these lands. But our eyes can not be everywhere at once, even if the forest cries with what may come to pass." Thranduil moved his piece again, smiling with a wicked grin to his visitor.

"Game over." He watched as Glorfindel studied the pieces on the board, before his eyes looked back at Thranduil's, nodding his head with his acknowledgment of defeat.

"Well played, my friend. I had not even noticed your strategy there." Thranduil had been so deceptive when he played, seemingly detached from the game and unfocused in his aloofness. "I would like to see you matched against Erestor in a game of chess."

"Ah Erestor, yes I did play against him once. I lost a whole night playing chess with him."

"Well, who won?" Glorfindel was very intrigued now. Erestor was the most skilled chess player he knew, but Thranduil was so deceptive and distracting, and Glorfindel thought, could have easily unnerved even the serious Erestor. 

Thranduil ran through his memories, trying to pull that detail back into his knowing. "My friend, I simply cannot pull that memory of who was the victor and who was not. Perhaps we did not finish, perhaps we did. I am sure Erestor can tell you this however, when you return to your home."

"I suppose I shall have to ask him." Glorfindel laughed back, really not surprised that the strange elf could not tell him that rather important detail regarding who had won.

Thranduil then looked up at the sky and he noticed the sun's position was in the noon hour and the mid-day meal was soon to be served. "It is almost time for lunch now."

They moved the chairs and chess table back and made their way to the dining hall with much conversation and laughter.

Glorfindel nodded knowing that Thranduil was right, surprised a little with just how quickly the morning had passed them by. "And will we lunch outside again?" Glorfindel had to ask.

Thranduil seemed to ponder a little while he thought of where he could take Glorfindel. He knew Glorfindel's day was free, and since he had been relieved from his duties for the time being, the afternoon was free to him as well. There was always a small hike through the forest but he had already done that with him just yesterday. But the more he thought about it, the more appealing the thought became, away from the eyes of his father's counsellors and the others who were so wary of Glorfindel. And then it dawned on him.

"Yes, we will eat our lunch outdoors today. And I know I told you we would not venture through the forest, but I want to take you to our glades. There is an area I wish to show you." He beckoned for Glorfindel to follow closely, his long slender fingers moving like the breeze through the trees, luring him to walk beside him.

They reached the kitchens and Thranduil darted in.

"Prince Thranduil!" The head cook cried out, her voice full of surprise. "What are you doing in my kitchen?"

The cook, whom Glorfindel could tell had lived an age, was a pretty brunette with a youthful cheery face. Her hair was tied back, and she had a little flour on her cheeks, as she had been baking bread. She crossed her arms now, expecting an answer from Thranduil, but despite her annoyance, she smiled a little.

"Please pardon my intrusion. I just come for the lunch satchel and for some wine." He smiled his most charming smile to  her, who handed him one of the already packed lunch-satchels they kept which had bread, nuts and berries.

"And your two goblets." She handed them over to Glorfindel since Thranduil was busy with the selection of the wine.

"Why thank you." Thranduil inclined his head in departure, having Glorfindel follow him out of the citadel and into the forest. 

"It is just a quick walk to where we are going." Thranduil explained, knowing that if it were him who was visiting Greenwood, he would want to see all the wonders of the forest. "I am taking you to the glades nearby, with wide open fields within the forest, rolling with waves of green grasses. I am hoping the sights will be pleasant this afternoon."

And true to Thranduil's words the forest opened up not too far from the citadel. Glorfindel gathered they had walked no less then thirty minutes. The fields were as Thranduil described, wide and expansive with tall green grass and wild flowers, opening up under a gentle blue sky with billowy clouds.

"This is our lunch spot today." Thranduil explained, lifting his face to the warm early summer sun and the clear tranquil day. He felt his spirit soar with the beauty of the land and hoped that Glorfindel as well could commune with the spirit of their forest.

The strong early summer sun had dried the earth from the storm that had passed by yesterday. Satisfied with a spot they seated themselves on the soft grass and watched as the wind blew across, sending the field before them in a rolling ripple as a gentle wave. Thranduil poured their wine and served the content of the packed lunch. They ate in silence, enjoying the day, eating and drinking under the gentle summer sun.

"I think the Valar did send you." Thranduil suddenly mused aloud, pausing his words when he heard the bewildered laughter from Glorfindel.

"No." He continued, finding the need to explain his logic. "With all the troubling news and the ever growing threat from our enemy, here you come, and I find myself suddenly more light-hearted and my soul is less weary."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, surprised that Thranduil now spoke as one who had lived through an age and had seen the bloodshed that took his home from him. Suddenly to Glorfindel, Thranduil very much seemed the same spirit as Oropher, fair face grave and dour.

"Sometimes the days go dark for me and even the fair beauty of this forest can not settle my mind, as if such duplicity has dividid my soul." Thranduil swirled the liquid in his wine goblet as he spoke.

Glorfindel knew the words Thranduil spoke were wrought within their immortality, both a blessing from the Valar but ever their one great curse and torment. The long years passed to them as if in the blink of an eye, but if ever their minds tarried on their grief, the days moved as if years. Time would slow until nothing else could be perceived. How he knew the tug of wanting serenity and peace, but knew they would have none as long as the dark lord was free to roam their lands.

"I believe this as well." Glorfindel smiled to Thranduil, trying to ease his weary soul.

"I very much believe we can unite and bring down the darkness that keeps the peace away. What little part I have that the valar has seen that I play, I gladly give it my all. I will not let Oropher's reluctance or stubbornness best me. I will remain steadfast and persistent. And until your father sees to have me in council, I will take my comfort in your company. I find I count you as a friend now and I am cherishing this time with you." The words Glorfindel spoke were true, not exaggerated. Thranduil simply was unlike any other he had met in al his long years.

Thranduil smiled genuinely, as he let the beauty of the one before him, and the spot in which they dined engross his senses. "Once again, I find myself relaxed by the goodness of your words and the sparkle in your clear blue eyes."

Thranduil found himself now wanting to flirt with Glorfindel, not really caring if his father would oppose or if he were unworthy of an interest from the other. Suddenly, wanting to make their lunch more pleasant, Thranduil decided to lighten the subject.

"Have your eyes been sung their praise?" Thranduil jested a little, sipping again his wine, letting his eyes sparkle with the glow of his seduction.

"Well," Glorfindel was amused with the strange question, wondering what journey they would go on this time with the tangents of Thranduil's mind.

"They sing of my might and valor and of how I brought a Balrog down, but I am afraid I have been grievously wronged to have no songs that praise my eyes." He laughed, giving into the conversation, allowing himself to relax with the good of the company, wine, and the peace in the emerald meadows that stretched around them.

"I speak of serious matters, my friend." Thranduil pouted a little. "The wood elves here are known for their songs and will sing the praise of most anything, so I would wonder if songs are sang about your eyes."

"And what would the songs say about my eyes?" Glorfindel leaned back onto the grass, finding it beyond surreal that he was in the Greenwood, discussing his eyes with Thranduil instead of back in Imladris, seeing to the protection of the valley and helping with the counsel of his Lord. But he knew this was where he was most needed now, and with Oropher refusing to speak with him, the company that Thranduil offered was most welcome.

Thranduil settled down beside him, stomach against the cool earth, eyes peering over into Glorfindel's eyes before he spoke.

"Deep azure oceans crashed against the shore. They reached out beyond the planes of time, etched like a memory that was never meant to be. For when I looked into the sapphires, shining as the ice in winter, I too could find no reprieve."

Thranduil stopped speaking, knowing his words were not worthy of the beauty held in those eyes. The splendor of Glorfindel's eyes could never be described with the limitations of words. So he instead could only paint his empty longing, for he knew that a love between them could never be.

 Thranduil did feel a little silly, trying to seduce Glorfindel with words as if he was a young maiden and he himself a youth. But Glorfindel was a lord, a mighty fabled warrior and he was the son of Oropher, for whom all the Noldor knew held little love for them.

"I like your words, Thranduil." Glorfindel noted the longing in the words and had to agree, although with sadness, that the attraction he felt towards Thranduil could not come to pass. As seductive and attractive Thranduil was, with the balance of the alliance still open to debate with Oropher, Glorfindel knew he could not jeopardize the task he had been sent on. He rejected the tug of the shining emerald eyes that beckoned and called to his soul.

"Tell me." Glorfindel decided to ask the same question to Thranduil. "Do they sing of your eyes here?"

Thranduil's laughter told Glorfindel nothing. And Thranduil did not answer the question, but instead rolled onto his back moving his gaze on the rolling clouds above.

"And I would ask you, Glorfindel, what would the songs say about me?"

Glorfindel sat up, thinking a little. Now a great warrior Glorfindel was, and blessed he even was with a great voice, but he was not a minstrel and had never composed poetry before. Still, he would give the description of Thranduil's eyes his best shot.

"Well," he began. "I believe they would sing of how they shine like jewels, reflecting bright the soul of the forest, of the green leaves that capture the sun, shining vividly, but also casting down shadows, hiding secrets beneath the surface…."

Glorfindel paused now, unable to break his gaze from Thranduil, whose eyes were wicked now and seductive, calling to him and casting into his mind his desire. He had to close his eyes, not wanting to continue with this dangerous game Thranduil seemed to want to play with him now.

Thranduil only sighed, knowing the trepidation Glorfindel battled with not wanting to anger Oropher further. He decided to let this game drop for the time being. He would keep working on Glorfindel, until desire was something he could no longer resist. Thranduil could understand why Glorfindel cared not to follow him with his flirtation. He had the fate of the elven alliance in his hands. If Gil-galad wanted the Sindarin Kings of the Silvan elves to join them, he would have to win over Oropher. And winning over Oropher was no easy task.

But an even harder task was that of not falling for Glorfindel. And try as hard as he wanted, Thranduil knew he simply could not resist. There was no use in fighting it. Glorfindel had captured his heart now.

The two sat and chatted through much of the afternoon, content in the peaceful glades. They conversed about the events that had befallen Ost-In-Edhel and how the dark lord threatened their very existence. As much as they wanted to keep the conversation light, the gravity of their predicament could not be erased from their minds. Long they talked and the topic moved to the tale of the Balrog slaying. Thranduil was most amused to actually hear the event from the one who had famously brought down the beast. When Glorfindel spoke of his death and the Halls of Mandos, Thranduil suddenly grew somber, thinking of his own mortality that kept resurfacing in his dreams. But he listened on, still intrigued by the words of the incredible elf who told the stories, engrossed with his words.

They continued their conversation as they headed back to Oropher's citadel. They passed quickly even as Anor disappeared. Dusk descended on the Greenwood like a heavy veil that wrapped the forest ever deeper into the folds of its darkness. Only the flickering of the fireflies and the faint elvish lanterns lit their path through the maze of ancient trees, whose voices whispered tales of an age ago in their leaves and branches.

Although the land was strange, as one of the Eldar, Glorfindel could commune with the trees. He listened to their lore of Lenwe, the ancient King whose spirit lingered ever, bound as a shadow refusing to depart this arcane forest to Mandos' Halls, as if his will was forever bound to the trees and creatures. Even as the trees whispered, Glorfindel had to force his attention to their words, instead of his gaze that kept moving back to Thranduil, who was cast in the shadow of the night.

"Do you know if I am required to dine tonight with your king?" Glorfindel suddenly mused aloud, curious though if Thranduil knew.

"My father likes to dine at sunset, so his meal would have already started. He stated nothing about any dinner plans however." Thranduil knew Oropher was only playing his games with Glorfindel, trying to drive his patience to ruin, hoping that in his frustration, he would snap. Oropher could then drive him away from the Greenwood. Thranduil could only just sigh to himself as he thought about his father's whims. He was glad Glorfindel said nothing as he wanted not to talk further about Oropher.

As they drew closer to the citadel, they could hear the distant elven voices singing, voices ringing like bells deep into the forest around them. The words were in that ancient Silvan tongue, which to Glorfindel's ears sounded elegiac, and so poignantly beautiful. He stopped to listen, letting the moving melodies and harmonies stir his soul. The song sounded as a lament, although its meaning was lost to him.

"The sing for the memory of Lenwe, for this is the anniversary of the day he was seen last." Thranduil stood next to his new friend, regarding Glorfindel's interest in their lore.

"Ah, so that explains the Greenwood's whispers of her ancient King." He turned his head to Thranduil's gaze. Thranduil seemed sad, as if he too were lamenting. But for what, Glorfindel knew not.

"Well," Thranduil chose not to comment any further. "I will take my leave for the night. Galion will see to your dinner."

Without another word, Thranduil left Glorfindel, who stood for a moment, watching him enter the citadel. He pondered a moment of the strange behavior, but he knew that Thranduil had devoted a great deal of time to him these last couple of days. Also feeling the need to unwind, Glorfindel headed to his rooms.

"My lord." Galion's rich words rang in the hall. "There is a plate for you in the dining hall." Galion approached from behind, until he stood in front of Glorfindel.

"Thank you, Galion, but I find no hunger this evening." Glorfindel just did not have the heart to dine amongst the Greenwood elves this night..

"As you wish." Galion replied, as he was use to this strange foreign guest now. "Is there anything I can do or get for you that you may require?"

Glorfindel's gentle turn of his head told Galion that he appreciated his hospitality but nothing more was needed, before he too retreated to his room for the night.

Galion watched Glorfindel turn from the guest wing before he disappeared. Since Glorfindel had been his last duty for the day, he now was free for the remainder of the night. Thinking of the only thing he wanted to do, he headed towards the resident wing, climbing to the level where Thranduil's room was housed. He walked with a brisk pace, eager to seek out his friend this night. It didn't take the tall Galion long to reach Thranduil's door.

"Galion!" Thranduil appeared beside Galion, who jumped a little, startled that Thranduil had moved beside him unheard.

"I am glad to see you." Thranduil motioned for him to enter his room. "Now, you just take a seat right there." He pointed briefly at some chairs, "and I will be right back." He finished his statement before disappearing into his bedchamber.

Galion had long ago learned of Thranduil's eccentricities, so he wasn't surprised to hear him changing in the other room. The sound of boots being tossed, and other garments being thrown on the ground echoed from the other room. Galion even smiled a little, while he poured himself and Thranduil goblets of wine before he seated himself on one of the chair's that Thranduil had pointed to.

He sipped his wine alone, while he wondered what delayed Thranduil. Straining his hearing, he listening to the sounds coming from the other room. Curious, he got up and peaked in, just as Thranduil entered the room from his wash room. Thranduil was clad only in a loose night robe, his hair dripping wet since he had just washed it. He dried it with a a towel, grinning at his friend who stood in the doorway.

"I smell wine." Thranduil walked past Galion, who followed Thranduil back into his sitting room.

Galion was pleased that Thranduil praised his selection of wine this night. "How was the Lord Glorfindel today?" He asked Thranduil, who was already pouring Galion another round of wine.

Thranduil raised a curious eyebrow at Galion's question, but didn't pursue why he inquired. He answered with vague details about their walk through the forest to the glade, their picnic there, and the lone game of chess. Thranduil poured himself another glass of wine and studied Galion. He wondered if perhaps he was falling as well for Glorfindel. Ever the prodding type, Thranduil leaned back in his chair, letting his bare legs and feet dangle over the side.

"Are you seeing anyone lately?" He curved his lips into a smile, drinking his wine with silent sips.

Galion sat his wine goblet down, trying to mask his thoughts and emotions. "No, I have not."

Galion had only just a year before lost his girlfriend when she had broken up with him. The elleth had fallen for another, a tall messenger from Lorien, who often made visits to the Greenwood. Galion had been heartbroken, but Thranduil had been there to console him, true as a good friend does. Their friendship was ever platonic, and although Thranduil was prone to flirting and casting his charm on others, he had never once turned his desire to him. Instead he always acted as a friend or brother.

"A whole year has passed, and am I left to believe your heart has not yet yearned for another?" Thranduil looked concerned for his friend, who was in his opinion too absorbed in his work as butler to the king.

Taking another drink, Galion chucked a little, feeling the strong wine play with his wits. "I have not. Not a single elleth in all of Greenwood could ever compare to her."

"Why limit yourself then?" Thranduil stated while he topped his wine off before it ran dry. He noticed a slight blush paint Galion's cheeks, something he had never seen before from his unusually private friend. Galion had always been a master at masking his deepest thoughts, even to Thranduil who read most people like open books. He felt a ting of jealousy rise in his core, but it quickly dissipated. So Galion had fallen too for Glorfindel. He frowned within. Galion was a most stunning elf, and although Thranduil had never felt attraction to his friend, many of the Greenwood people did. He raised his eyebrow, starring intensely at his friend, letting Galion know that he fully expected and answer to his question.

"Well, when you put it that way, my search did just get much more easier." Galion giggled, his Silvan carefree mirth finally breaking through his usual controlled facade. "But I am not the type most would look on with great yearning. I am mostly silent and cherish solitude when I can ever find it. Surely most would find me most dull."

"Nonsense." Thranduil shook his head, letting his still damp hair dangle back behind the chair he was sitting on. "I know for a fact that you, Galion, have caught many eyes in Greenwood. I would have thought that you were more astute to see that." He curled his toes before stretching out his legs. He then let them dangle back down over the side of the chair. "You need to relax. See how you now sit there so prim."

Galion did note how his posture was upright and rigid, even as Thranduil, who was nobility, casually lounged wearing an almost revealing night robe with damp unruly hair. Galion leaned back on his chair, letting his friend's words and the wine relax his body and his mind. His facial muscles softened and to Thranduil, Galion had never looked so handsome. Galion could be trouble if the Lord Glorfindel were to see his beauty. But then again, Glorfindel was proving to be a strong one with willpower beyond the likes Thranduil had ever come across before, matching even that of Oropher's. None of his charms seemed to turn Glorfindel from his task at hand.

"Do you know what your day will bring tomorrow, Thranduil?" Galion asked, his words more slurred now in a tug of wine fatigue. Leaning his head back onto the chair, he smiled wide, and stretched his long legs before him, sitting more relaxed than he had ever done before within Thranduil's chambers.

"I really do not know, now that Oropher has pulled me from the outer patrol. I know the post was only temporary, but I did not expect such an abrupt end to my life as a guard. I have to admit, Galion, that I immensely enjoyed the freedom out there with the long days patrolling the forest…." Thranduil stopped speaking, as he heard the gentle breathing of a now sleeping Galion.

Thranduil rose, shaking his head before he went and helped Galion into his bedchamber. Galion seemed little fazed by the short and clumsy walk, and quickly feel back into slumber on Thranduil's bed. Without Galion's help, Thranduil removed his boots and turned down the lamps. He looked back on his friend briefly, before he turned back into his sitting room. Stretching one last the time, Thranduil collapsed on his divan, ready to let sweet slumber claim him as well.


	5. The Offering Is

A knock and then a call of his name roused Thranduil from his slumber in the early hours of this new day. The knocking continued, and again his name was called, this time with ever more urgency than before. Rising quickly, he put on an outer robe before he opened his door, having recognized the voice of one of his father's counsellors.

"Sorry to disturb your rest, but the King has requested a meeting now." The advisor requested for Thranduil to hurry in his dress and make hast to his father's counsel room.

Hearing the concern within his voice, Thranduil agreed, and he headed into his bedchamber. He glanced at the still sleeping Galion, who looked relaxed as he was sprawled across the bed. The dawn had yet to break, and the stars could still be seen. Usually Galion would be rising soon, but Thranduil decided to let him sleep. He moved silently into his wardrobe, quickly dressing and combing his hair. By the time that he walked back into the sitting room, the counsellor had already left. He closed his outer door quietly, and walked quickly to his father's counsel room, wondering why he had been summoned so early.

On entering the room, Thranduil noted that just his father and his chief-advisor were present. Oropher stood with his back to him, and he quickly turned to face him when he entered. His father looked as if he had taken no rest all night, and stood disheveled. His robes were cast aside and he wore but just a tunic and leggings tucked into his boots. His crown rested atop a stack of books, and the King's hair flowed loosely down his back. Letters and scrolls were scattered on a desk, and an almost empty bottle of wine sat uncorked next to the crown. Thranduil stood at attention, knowing that the situation was dire at best.

Oropher looked concerned, face grave not caring to mask his emotions as he began speaking. "Word was sent that Istuninir's son Ferdir was injured in an attack by orcs on his return from Lorien. He is stabilized as best the healers could manage. Istuninir has requested that I send you to heal his only son. And since he has ever been my friend all through the years, I would answer his request. Go, and do not fail with healing his son. Do not fail me with this one request from my friend."

Oropher seated himself at the desk, not caring to check or mask his worry regarding the more frequent sightings of orcs around their lands. The numbers of orcs grew daily it seemed with the rise of the dark lord, and deep within, Oropher knew, that peace would never come to these lands. His mind drifted briefly to the impending war that could not be stopped, and his thoughts formed now on Glorfindel. The King snapped from his thoughts, stopping Thranduil in his tracks when he spoke suddenly.

"Thranduil!"

He saw his son's bright green eyes lock with his own. "Take that Noldo with you. I will be engaged today, for the sentries will report from our southern borders. I would rather not have Lord Glorfindel lurking around my halls, trying to demand that I see him at his command. Heal my friend's son, and keep Glorfindel away from me this day." Oropher paused now, reviewing his plan over with more thought, for he saw a critical flaw with it. "I will also send Galion with you, to ensure that Glorfindel remains occupied, while you are busy with the healing duties."

Oropher looked to his counselor now. "Inform my butler that he will be joining Thranduil and Glorfindel today to our northern lands." He watched as Thranduil nodded, accepting his request. Oropher then dismissed his son, sending him off to do the work he had been trained in.

If Thranduil was pleased at the request of Glorfindel joining him, he did not disclose it. Ever an enigma Thranduil was, but Oropher usually could discern his son's thoughts and feelings. But today he just could not tell, perhaps distracted by the genuine worry for his friend's dying son. Although he didn't like the thought too much of Thranduil and Glorfindel together, with Galion around, he knew if an attraction was building, as his suspicions seemed to relay, Galion would let him know. Oropher smiled to himself, thinking that perhaps an attraction might just be a proper reason to dispel Glorfindel from his realm, without him appearing too uncouth to Gil-galad. An attraction between the two would be a breach of diplomacy and would be the perfect reason to have Glorfindel banished for good.

Thranduil quickly headed back to his chambers to wake the sleeping Galion. However, Galion had already left. Smiling to himself, he headed to the healing wing. Housed in his father's healing house were the very best healers in the Greenwood. They were already busying themselves with the preparation of the needed medical supplies he needed to take along with him, as word had been sent already to them. Thranduil had for most of his life trained in the healing arts, and he often worked alongside the healers in his father's realm. With the exception of just a few elves, Thranduil was considered one of the better healers in the Greenwood.

Handing Thranduil the needed supplies, the healers wished him luck. He thanked them and headed down to the breakfast room, hoping to find Galion and Glorfindel. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, as he could still hear the transparent concern that dripped in his father's voice.

The Lord was his father's friend, and he would not want to fail such a personal request from his father. Even though his father was good friends with Istuninir, Thranduil had never met his son.

Thranduil did know that Ferdir was young, having just reached maturity five years earlier. His father, a Lord from Doriath, had fallen for a lovely Silvan elleth and had resigned his service from Oropher's court to oversee their northern lands. And although Oropher hated having him leave the service of his court, he realized that Istuninir could oversee their northern borders. The people who lived in the northern lands were the oldest of the Avari, and although were at first wary of the newcomers, had welcomed Oropher as their King. They were the true children of the Greenwood, and were ever content to stay within their forest deep, living an even simpler life than the woodland elves who lived in the capital. They were even more rustic and far more dangerous, but Thranduil found he liked them very much, and always enjoyed visiting their northern settlement, as infrequent as it was.

On entering the dining hall, neither Galion nor Glorfindel were present yet. Just the chief-advisor who motioned for Thranduil to come over. He complied with the request, but declined to seat himself by the advisor, choosing instead to stand while he listened to this words.

"We will miss having you present for the reports from our southern borders." The advisor stopped eating, looking intently at Thranduil.

Thranduil only nodded, knowing that the reports grew ever more grave and worrisome. And then he thought of the task his father was sending him on. "Has Glorfindel been summoned?" Thranduil took a cup of warm liquid from one of the servers, thanking her with a gentle smile. He declined any breakfast however, and watched the advisor who rose from his seat.

"Yes, he is being brought here soon…" The advisor stopped speaking as Galion entered. "And, as you can see now, Galion has also been informed."

"Good morning, my lords." Galion politely greeted them, noting that the two had been speaking about their duties for the day.

"And to you, Galion." The advisor smiled. "You must be pleased to journey back to your homelands." He watched Galion nod, and Thranduil remembered as well that Galion's sister's family still dwelt in the north of the woods.

"Perhaps we could find time to visit your family, if that pleases you." Thranduil suggested as he knew that Galion rarely was able to visit with his sister's family.

Galion again smiled, very much hoping that the visit would come to pass. "I would like that very much, but only if sorrow has not fallen on our forest this day."

Thranduil nodded in response, as he patiently waited for Glorfindel's arrival. He too hoped as much that with what little he could do for the wounded Ferdir, that death would not find him this day. He frowned within, worried ever of the growing malice that haunted their lives and had brought Glorfindel here to them. The dark of days was coming and nothing could stop it now.

\--------------------------

While Oropher and Thranduil had spoken, Glorfindel was laying silent on his bed, not wanting much to greet this day that would soon turn to dawn. His heart was troubled strangely this early day. All the images of the forest and its people spun in his mind. If it weren't for Thranduil and even Galion, Glorfindel knew his frustration would probably get the best of him, and the mission itself would be even more impossible. Glorfindel was just about at his wits end, wondering why Oropher kept refusing to even set a date for the meeting. He was ready to go off on the king, and demand a meeting. But no, he had been sent because he was ever patient and even more controlled than Oropher could ever be.

Turning on his side, his eyes focused in the pale lantern light on a painted scene on the wall of the forest itself. The Greenwood held such a spell over the elves that their art and songs reflected it almost exclusively, he mused. And he found himself smiling, as he continued to look at the mural, thinking of the beautiful forest he was in. He thought of the songs he had heard here and although he could make no sense of the words, he knew the elves sang of the trees and the soul of the forest. He thought of the words that Thranduil spoke of the stories of the spirits that lingered still in the forest. He wondered again of the long departed Lenwe, who had ruled these lands and people and how he seemed to disappear as if he had simply became as one with the Greenwood. It seemed now that the forest pulled him from his bed and he rose. He went out on the balcony, as if expecting to see the arcane spirits who dwelt in the depths of the forest. And as if to make him wonder more, a heavy fog clung around the trees below and into the glades around them, and the songs of the doves echoed more forlorn than he had heard them sing before. The Greenwood seemed sad, troubled even and Glorfindel wondered what was amidst today in this forest. His blue eyes took the early morning in; the grey sunless sky and a dawn that seemed to not want to break. Yet another day in the Greenwood and he knew not what to expect or if he would even see Oropher today.

The land was so foreign, so far from Imladris. And ever he felt the outsider, someone that was scorned, mistrusted, and not wanted, hated even. In his disheartened state, he did not want to face the scowling guards and their judging eyes branding him as one of those kinslayers, even if time had already passed its judgment. He knew that some memories could not be erased as easily as washing the blood from one's hands. Glorfindel held no guilt, but he knew Oropher judged him all the same and with his cold dismissal, he continued to lead his Sindar and Silvan subjects to pass their judgment on him as well.

Turning from the forest and back into his room, Glorfindel cleaned and dressed himself, readying himself for the day that lay ahead. He was just ready to step outside his door when he heard soft footsteps approach. Opening the door, he stood face to face with an elf he had not seen before. She was fair of face and spoke slowly even though through the thick of her words, Glorfindel understood that something was not right. He accepted her invitation to follow through the halls, still somewhat dark under the soft lantern glow. He followed along until he was brought to the dining hall, where he was surprised that Thranduil was present.

Thranduil had just finished conversing with a stern looking advisor, who exited the room without greeting Glorfindel. His ancient eyes were full of scorn and distrust. But Thranduil himself, smiled at seeing him enter, eyes full of light and warmth towards him. Galion as well was present, standing to Thranduil's right, although he seemed to take no part in the earlier conversation.

"Ah Glorfindel, it is good to see your this very early morning." Thranduil's voice was a little strained, as if something terrible may have happened. He wore a dark green tunic today, and dark grey leggings tucked into knee high boots. Again his hair was upbraided and he wore no decorations on his person of rings or circlets.

"I have been asked today to travel to one of our northern settlements in Greenwood. A family friend was injured and his condition has taken a change for the worse, so they have requested my aid. Our king has asked me to go and heal him." Thranduil let his eyes reflect his concern. "Our king has also requested that you join me, along with Galion."

Thranduil watched as Glorfindel's eyes flickered briefly, his annoyance again apparent. "Oropher is busy today in meetings and with open court, so he can not make the time for you. You are always welcome to accompany me through our lands, as I find I enjoy your company." Thranduil added, apologetically.

"I think," Glorfindel chose his words very carefully. "That if Oropher were just to set a date for this meeting, I would grew less impatient, even if this date he chooses is a week or two away. It is this unknowing in which I have to wake each day that weighs on my heart and mind. It is not noble, how he treats me. He acts with such disregard to diplomacy."

Thranduil regarded his words, knowing first hand the games his father liked to play. "You are in the Greenwood." Thranduil whispered into his ear. He had to remind Glorfindel yet again that the rules he thought he knew, could never apply here. The actions he was use to would simply not work with their woodland culture. "And in the Greenwood, the world moves ever stranger, and ever more cautious to the outside world."

Glorfindel watched as Thranduil moved away from him, and reach for a drink. He then motioned for Glorfindel to take his seat and eat.

"We must make hast this morning, for the path we take is long."

Breakfast was a rushed affair, for all knew the urgency of their prompt arrival. The Greenwood elves knew the distance that they needed to travel was far, and that time was the enemy. Glorfindel, joined by Galion, was once again at Thranduil's side, heading deep into the forest thick, even before the sun had yet to rise.

The Greenwood was still dark, even though the dawn was on the horizon. The fog still clung around the trees, and the voices of the forest called out from the darkness. The three walked in silence, breathing in the sharp dewey scent that permeated from the forest around them. The air was heavy with the wet earth, and the fog made the early day strangely erie.

"Tell me more about the Silven elves, Thranduil." Glorfindel requested as they walked with a pace that was quick along a forest trail, as he wanted to break the silence that had fallen between them.

"Where to begin…" Thranduil stated, wondering what information Glorfindel sought on the subject. He looked over to Galion, who simply smiled with his eyes, but his lips were pursed together. Thranduil knew that the expert would not provide any insight on the request. Continuing on with all he could think to say, Thranduil turned onto a path that headed into the north-east, leading the other two to where they needed to journey.

"They have dwelled here for as long as anyone can remember. I find them to be a good-hearted group. We are," Thranduil changed the subject of the group, including himself as part of them, "however, a cautious group. But we can tell who is good of heart, and will welcome those into our midst and homes."

"And why did you come to Greenwood, Thranduil? I know why Oropher left, but why did you?"

Glorfindel was genuinely curious, since Thranduil had spoke of such fondness of his time in Lindon. And then there were those who had know him in Lindon. They had told Glorfindel a little about Thranduil, holding him in such high regard. They all mentioned that he was unlike the other Sindar who dwelt there. He was more wiling to learn from and with them, and was counted as a friend amongst all people. The more Glorfindel got to know him, the less he seemed like Oropher. Thranduil did not seem to share the same spirit of isolation, mistrust, and hatred. From what he could see, he was not quick to pass judgement, but seemed to form his own opinions independent from the decree of his father.

Thranduil was a little taken aback from the the question that Glorfindel asked him, as the decision to journey to the east had not been an easy one for him at all. Some days he questioned not his decision, but on other days, his heart lamented greatly, as a part of his heart was forever torn from him, still dwelling far beyond the mountains in the west.

"The answer is a simple one really." Thranduil finally answered. "As much I liked Lindon and the good company found there, I would not be sundered from my father and other kinsmen. You may think him flawed and distant, obstinate even, and I do admit that he has often let the tragedy of his life mold his better judgement. Yes he is quick to doubt, to distrust and has an almost manic stance with staying isolated, but these actions only steam from a love for his people and a desire to keep them safe. And that is why I left the west to travel to these unknown lands with him, uprooting all I knew and finding a new identify for myself. My love and respect for Oropher drove me to bind myself with this forest and to offer my service to its people as long as I live. It was the choice I made at that time, and I will not look back."

Glorfindel had to admit, he was surprised with Thranduil's words, surprised that the two could even be considered close. From what he saw, he thought the two seemed distant and a discord seemed to resonate from them. Father and son they were, but they just so different. And yet Thranduil would follow him into the unknown, giving up all that he knew and loved. The mystery grew even more intriguing to him.

"Your father is such a mystery. I have never met another like him before." Glorfindel mused aloud, not really expecting an answer from Thranduil but at the same time, he wandered what he had to say on the subject.

"I still have faith that he will come around." Thranduil offered. "You say Oropher is a mystery, and you would be right in your assessment. But he has a good heart and loves his people, a most universal trait, would you not agree?"

Glorfindel nodded to the question, realizing that he could use those graces that they held dear, the truths that drove them through the ages. The soaring forest around them settled his spirit more, and he was once again at ease.

The early morning walk through the forest was sublime, with the fog still covering the trees and a path they could not see. But Galion knew his home well. And with a light foot he guided both Thranduil and Glorfindel through gently, so that not once did they stumble although there were many roots and brush. The forest itself remained dark as if to hide its many secrets and Glorfindel strained his sight, slightly disappointed that the forest remained obscured under the fog and the sunless darkness. The absence of light cast the Greenwood as even more otherworldly, a sinister land of mystery and peril.

He smiled to himself, laughing inwardly despite the forbidding words Thranduil had spoken of before. The Greenwood was good land, the elves that dwelt here were ever the forest's eyes and its keeper. Together they were bound, tied in a symbiotic cycle. And Thranduil's emerald eyes, as deep as any of the broad leaves of the forest, regarded him, as if he knew his thoughts were on the Greenwood, the very land he had bound his soul with.

Thranduil did not break the silence. His eyes were expressive enough, revealing the want he felt for Glorfindel. But Glorfindel knew he could not allow Thranduil's wants. He was a stranger here in these strange lands, not wanted, scorned and unwelcome. The ancient elves who dwelled in these lands were around him, merged in the fog and shadows. They were the eyes of the forest who knew he was an outsider. But Thranduil was just as foreign as he was, and yet they all seemed to embrace him, graphing him in as one of their own. A wary people they may be, but if Oropher held their respect and allegiance, than Thranduil held their adoration and hearts. And Glorfindel wondered if he could somehow use this friendship that Thranduil freely gave him to get through to the council that Oropher kept around him.

The path meandered now, and they turned further to the east, and the forest seemed even darker with the trees soaring to dizzying heights. Glorfindel could barely make out the dwellings hewed in the trees. Although there were many elves around them, they stayed out of sight, choosing to remain hidden even as they approached what seemed to be a more densely populated area.

Thranduil's words were softer now, as if he wished no to disturb the peaceful silent morning. "The Nandor here have called this area home for as long as they can remember. They were welcoming to us when we moved ever northward, but we little involve ourselves with their affairs."

"We have arrived." Galion joined in, eyes full of joy at being back at his home. And although he wanted nothing more than to run to his sister's home further along the path, his duty was to Thranduil, and he would stand nearby while he worked.

They approached a large tree and Thranduil bade Glorfindel to wait outside with Galion. Glorfindel watched him disappear into the tree before he moved his eyes to the elves who were starting to gather around them.

Thranduil entered into the house where worried and relieved eyes greeted him. The healer who lived in this part of the forest, Thranduil barely knew, and she spoke with such a rushed cadence that he really had to concentrate to follow her words. He learned that Ferdir had been ambushed by orcs, and had somewhere been wounded during the attack. The healer suspected an infection or damage within that she could just not repair. Her concerned dark brown eyes seemed to beseech Thranduil who began to look the wounded over. Ferdir did not feel feverish nor too cold. He was pale however, with labored breathing. Thranduil had been told that he had fought the orcs, and had returned on his own accord showing no signs of injury. He had been dazed, and short of breath, complaining of a pain before he finally fell into unconsciousness. Fearing for Ferdir's life, they had sent a request to the King to send another healer for aid. The she-elf unpacked the medicines he had brought, and together the two began their work.

Istuninir watched them begin, and then he left with the other elves who were not involved with the healing, allowing the healers the space they needed to work. He trusted Thranduil to heal his son, but still leaving his dying child's side was hard. Back in the forest, Istuninir's eyes grew round when he accessed Glorfindel standing on the forest floor. Galion smiled at seeing the Lord's reaction, and respectfully nodded his head to him.

"Lord Istuninir, please let me introduce you to the Lord Glorfindel of Imladris. He is visiting with us on official business from the High-King. King Oropher had requested he accompany us today so he can see more of the wonders of Greenwood forest." Galion explained to the Istuninir.

For his part, Istuninir was courteous, and accepted the well-wishes for his son that he knew were sincere from Glorfindel. He did from time to time, regard Glorfindel under judgmental eyes, as Glorfindel had seen that look from the other Sindar who lived in the Greenwood. That same look was of disdain and wariness, a look that clearly branded him forever associated with the kinslayers. It was always the same old look from the ancient Sindar who had survived the bloody First Age that they gave him. Glorfindel wondered why time seemed to stand still for these survivors of Doriath, especially when their very freedoms were now in jeopardy. Holding onto the pains of the past would do little to protect them from the coming darkness that threatened their very lives.

And Glorfindel looked around noticing that other elves gathered around curious to see this strange visitor who had accompanied Thranduil and Galion. Glorfindel noticed that their eyes were much less critical than Istuninir's who was anxiously awaiting the news of his dying son. Istuninir stood by his wife, for Glorfindel could feel their bond. With the fear of not knowing their son's fate, they paid Glorfindel no more mind. For this, Glorfindel was grateful.

Knowing the severity of the situation, Glorfindel kept his silence, mirroring the solemn elves whose faces reflected the same worry as the wounded elf's parents. Glorfindel could tell this community was a close one, an extended family, celebrating and grieving united. And the forest as well seemed far too still and fell silent without a single ruffle of leaves nor the calling of fowls.

Time, a curious deceiver, painted the hour as never moving, stuck instead on the pins and needles of apprehension. Not even the shadows stirred, but instead remained in their places, as the forest canopy above stifled the rays of Anor. It seemed as if the Greenwood too was dark this day, mourning the fall of own of their own children.

Glorfindel wondered about the one who lay fighting for his life, they one they called Ferdir. Such love Oropher must have for his people for him to have sent his own flesh and blood as the healer for this task. Glorfindel mused over the added clue to the complex riddle that was the Greenwood King. He looked over to Galion, who was studying him now. Bright brown eyes smiled to him and Glorfindel felt his heart grow lighter. It was evident that Galion believed the outcome to be positive as he put his faith in Thranduil's very capable hands. Glorfindel knew little of Thranduil's healing skills, as not all elves were gifted the same by the Valar. He realized however that Thranduil must be skilled or Oropher would have not sent him. But still the time moved slowly, testifying not Thranduil's skill. The injury to Ferdir seemed to manifest ever graver to the gathered, who held their steadfast and silent vigil.

If time moved as if had stopped for those who waited outside, time was the unseen enemy that the two healers had battled in Istuninir's home. Thranduil invoked the graces while the she-elf coerced an herbal draft down Ferdir's mouth. They had worked for awhile now, and with finishing his words, he stood relived, seeing that Ferdir was able to weakly drink down the healing fluid. Thranduil admired these Silvan healers and had studied for years with them to better understand their knowledge of the native plants that grew in abundance in the Greenwood. And only moments earlier he had witnessed the ancient Silvan healer prepare a healing draft, as if she were simply making something as simple as an afternoon tea.

Thranduil looked over the now sleeping Ferdir, and felt his fae grow stronger. He recognized the healing sleep that came over the other, and he no longer feared for his life. Thranduil himself felt some exhaustion. The incantation he had used required more focus and force than he had ever had to call on before. Ferdir had been injured within, a hidden injury which had made it hard for them to heal. Thranduil watched as the older healer worked on making another batch of some sort of medicine. Not really sure what it was she busied herself with making, he turned back to the peacefully resting Ferdir. He looked much better, his face was strong and both he and the she-elf knew he would recover.

"Drink up." Thranduil was startled from his thoughts with the healer's words, and turned to see her standing before him holding a strange smelling drink.

"Thank you, Nestades." he stated, taking the warm drink from the healer's hands. He raised a curious eyebrow, not recognizing the smell of the draft. "And what exactly is this for?" He asked, as he had never seen this particular medicine before.

"'Tis a drink to help you keep your strength. I drink it at least once a week. It is an old family recipe I learned from my grandmother who taught me the medicines in these lands." She smiled to him and her eager eyes urged him to drink it.

Taking a sip, Thranduil had to keep his poise, for the draught was beyond bitter and strangely for too earthy for his liking. He forced the liquid down, wondering how on earth anyone would willingly take this drink even once a week. Strength was overrated Thranduil thought, as he wondered how he would ever finish the disgusting brew.

"You have to finish it all, my young healer, if you are to ever be as strong as we will need you to be." Nestades urged him on, with exaggerated movement of her arms and hands. "My dear departed Grandmother would have me drink this all the time, for she told me a healer must be as unwavering as the trees if they are to serve the people who need them most. Resilient as this forest and as tough as the bark that I ground into that drink, you know." She continued as she watched Thranduil force it down. "I still drink at least one of these a week, and fatigue has never kept me from my duties."

Again Thranduil did his best to resist the urge to gag, even as the repulsive liquid threatened to force its way back up.

"Easy does it." She smiled. "Now, I will go inform the worried parents of our young friend that their beloved son will be just fine."

He watched her leave and coughed a little, most certainly convinced now that brains were far more important than braun could ever be. He rose respectfully when Istuninir entered the room, for they had known each other since Thranduil was but an elfling in Doriath and Istuninir was a lord along with his father in King Thingol's court. Thranduil watched as the parent's embraced at the sight of their son, relieved to feel the strength of his fae. He excused himself and left their home, wanting to give them the privacy they needed. Back in the forest, he saw Glorfindel and Galion conversing, both with much lighter moods, jovial even to his ears.

"Nestades tells us that Ferdir will live." Galion smiled to his friend. The fatigue that was reflected deep in the depths of Thranduil's emerald eyes caused Galion to realize just how close to death the young Ferdir had been.

"This is true." Thranduil added little, not wanting to speak about the injury or work that he had done. He noticed that Galion shifted a little, and Thranduil smiled, remembering the promise he had made to Galion. "I have forgotten the way to your sister's house, Galion. Do you mind leading us on?"

With those words, Galion was swift to move, and the two fell into step behind him.

"I did not know that your sister lives here." Glorfindel was very much intrigued that he was able to learn just a little more about the mysterious Galion who had offered him his kindness.

"Yes," Galion answered. "The wood-elves are spread beneath the broad leaves of this forest, but this part of the Greenwood had once been my home before I took service in our King's halls. This part of the forest is most dear to me, for it was here where I grew and learned of the greatness of my forest home."

  
At hearing this, Thranduil smiled with a bittersweet stirring in his heart. He would do anything to be able to return to his peaceful home in Doriath, but the ages had claimed that life he once knew. The shadows of his dreams darkened within his mind, and he let the worry fill him that somehow the Greenwood would fall to the darkness of the ever approaching evil. But he was little able to stay in his dark mood as the joyful sounds of the siblings reuniting put a graceful smile back onto his face.

With all his troubling thoughts, he had little noticed that they had arrived to the home they would be visiting now. He greeted Galion's sister politely, and watched as a small elfling jumped into Galion's arms, hugging him and showering him with kisses. Thranduil loved how the wood-elves were so free in their affection and celebration of their kin. He watched as Galion's face shone with joy, and he followed him into the home, having been invited by Galion's lovely sister.

Glorfindel too joined them inside the woodland house, where he was invited to sit. He could not make out the words the siblings used, but he could feel the joy in the room. That curious elfling moved from Galion now, finding a little more bravery regarding the strange visitors. She walked closer to Glorfindel, who smiled to the young one. His smile seemed to be the ice-breaker the child needed, and she climbed next to him, before moving onto his lap.

"She is called Erdhel." Thranduil told him, "For she will grow strong and tall within this forest. Galion told me of her birth, but this is first I have I met her."

"Erdhel." Glorfindel smiled to the youngster again, who clapped with joy at hearing him say her name. She reached a chubby hand over, and tugged at his hair, mesmerized by the colour.

"Golden hair!" She laughed, and Glorfindel found himself laughing along with her. She spoke in the tongue of her people, as the Sindarin words still were not used this far within the Greenwood.

"I think she likes you." Thranduil offered, watching the young child play with Glorfindel's long and flowing locks. "You seem to have a way with children, now do you not, Glorfindel."

"Now battles and danger I know well, but the mysterious of children I have not yet learned. The Valar have never blessed me with any." Glorfindel paused, looking the child over. "And I do not know if I really would want them."

Thranduil did not ask the reason why, and only just smiled at him. He looked over to the sister and brother who were laughing and chatting as if it were just them alone. Thranduil had little ever seen this side of Galion, and he found he liked to see him awash in this mirth. He saw Galion's sister look to him, and she smiled.

"I would like to invite you and Glorfindel now for lunch, for Galion tells me that you took little breakfast this morning, my prince. Come, for I have just baked fresh bread." Galion's sister motioned for her child to join her. "Erdhel, please lead our guests to our table."

At hearing her mother's words, the elfling grabbed hold of Glorfindel's hands, tugging him along to the table her mother began setting.

"There, sit, there." The child giggled, not realizing that Glorfindel did not speak her tongue. But body language was a universal uniter, and he took her meaning, seating himself where she had pointed. Erdhel was pleased, and climbed onto the chair next to him, fully captivated by the golden-haired one who came to pay her a special visit.

"I find she likes our strange visitor and is more intrigued with him than with bugging her own uncle." Thranduil teased Galion, who laughed in agreement with his words. Thranduil looked to Glorfindel, and translated for him the conversation that continued throughout the lunch.

Soon the lunch had ended, and Galion realized that the time to leave had finally come. Thranduil thanked Galion's sister for her hospitality, and Glorfindel politely inclined his head in departure.

  
Brother and sister said their goodbyes, while Glorfindel's gaze was pulled away. He felt a light tug on the hem of his tunic, and on looking down, he saw the small elfling smiling up at him. Glorfindel gave his most polite bow to the child, who giggled her approval to him. Next she ran over to Thranduil, who bent down to her, accepting her hug. She placed a kiss to his cheek and ran next to her uncle, who once again scooped the child in his arms.

With their final goodbyes said, and the afternoon approaching, the three headed back to the capitol. The forest had grown more brighter, as the noon sun had chased away the heavy clouds, which let the rays of light penetrate through the heavy canopy. Indeed the Greenwood knew that one of her son's slept peaceful now, healing from the malice that approached around them. The three moved with a peace that trumped even the frustrations that had found them through the last couple of days, and quickly with a light foot, they moved to the south. Even as they walked, they enjoyed the afternoon breezes that blew through the wind.

The arrival to the capital was just before the early summer sun was preparing its decent for the approaching night. They were greeted with one of the King's counsellor's who quickly moved to them. The counsellor had the essence of concern painted on his face, and the group paused, waiting for his words.

"Thranduil, the King requests your presence now." His tone was neither grave nor stressed however. He let his dark eyes move over to Glorfindel, addressing him with scorn. "Lord Glorfindel, your presence was not requested from our King. You may take your leave as you see fit."

An apologetic look was shot to Glorfindel before Thranduil turned to follow his father's counsellor, leaving Glorfindel and Galion alone in this late evening hour.

He followed the counselor who moved with a quick pace, turning through the maze that was Oropher's citadel. He was a little surprised when they turned to a stairwell that would lead to Oropher's private bedchambers. His father rarely ever received him in his own rooms, and the guards who watched him pass as well seemed to omit a slight surprise.

Thranduil entered his father's room which was empty except for the King. Oropher stood straight and tall, his back to Thranduil, his long hair spilling uncrowned down his back. He wore a long blue robe, and stood before an open vista where the dusk's breezes gently blew the strands of his hair. Oropher did not stir or turn when Thranduil entered, choosing instead to keep his gaze out into the forest, as if hypnotized by the changing beauty of the day into the coming of night. Thranduil did not have to wait long for his father to address him however.

"How fares our young friend? Was your task a success?" His father's voice was languid, as if he already knew that the youth was well, and he was simply following formality by asking.

"Yes, my Lord, Ferdir rests in healing and is now in the hands of the great healer there. His spirit was strong when I left, firmly bound to these good lands in which we live."

If Oropher were pleased at the news, Thranduil did not know. His father continued to keep him to his back, choosing instead to look out into the forest, with his arms crossed now.

Thranduil wondered over the changing of his father's body language, and wondered now if it were Glorfindel who crossed his mind. And just as he had suspected, Oropher turned to him, staring with his intense probing eyes.

"I gather your day with the Noldo was also enjoyable, for you lingered longer than I would have thought would be needed for the task I sent you on." He finally stepped away from the large window, moving more into the room, closer to his son.

"Yes, the day was good," Thranduil answered truthfully. "for Galion was granted leisure with his sister's family, and she offered us to break bread at her table."

He noticed his father seemed pleased at hearing this, for Thranduil knew Galion was dear to him. He hoped his father would move to a different topic now, for the southern reports had been delivered this day and Thranduil held concern over what developments were occurring with the discord that echoed through the forest for some time now.

But Oropher would not be deterred, choosing instead to speak of what he wanted and on his own time.

"The Lord Glorfindel grows impatient." Oropher stated, pointing out a flaw that seemed to justify his disregard for meeting with him.

He walked past Thranduil across the room, and once again his back was to him. Thranduil watched as his father poured himself some wine, and he drank it long, neglecting to invite Thranduil to join him.

"If I may, my lord," Thranduil paused, and Oropher did not object. Satisfied that he was invited to speak he continued. "I believe his actions are not so much an impatience, but instead steam from a desire to see that the freedoms of all people do not fall. It is their belief that we must unite under one banner, or the darkness will cover us all. I believe it would be wise to hear him out, because I know that you do not want this fate to happen. The High-King may have a plan that we perhaps could make better." Thranduil knew he was treading dangerous waters now, but his father needed council and as a prince of this great forest, he was also a guardian to its people. He held his tongue now, waiting for the anger his father would have.

But the anger did not come, just a subtle smirk that briefly crossed his father's alabaster face. "A strong desire…" Oropher laughed a little, mocking his son's words. He turned now to face Thranduil and could see that he was very serious with his feelings towards the matter.

"Perhaps the Lord Glorfindel could be so capable to convince me himself, for I can see that he has already bewitched my son. Why do you take it upon yourself to do the work of this Noldo? I would have thought that I raised you better than to be a vassal to their kind." Oropher walked closer to Thranduil now, moving quickly through the room until he was standing face to face with him.

"Do you honestly believe that the High-King would take our council? No, he would only lead us as he sees fit, using us only as pawns for what suits him best. The suffering we would face would find no reprieve. No my son, I vowed long ago to live free from the politics and lies of the Noldor, and I would not break that vow now, even as that threat of evil grows, and even if it is the mighty Glorfindel who begs for Gil-galad."

Oropher raised his hand before Thranduil could answer, suddenly deciding that his son's response was not what he wanted to hear now, lease he would fall into a deep rage. But that was not what he wanted now. There was a more pressing issue that needed to be addressed.

"Let us discuss why I really had you summoned here." He motioned for Thranduil to take a seat now, and he only continued when Thranduil did as he had wanted.

"The reports from the southern reaches of the forest and beyond came to us today, and the news was ill indeed. More of our scouts have been told by the woodmen that increased orc attacks have left them wounded and desperate. The orcs roam ever northward into the Greenwood. The enemy grows bolder. And the woodmen, although strong, grow desperate and are falling. The counsel believes we should aid our southern neighbors, and I would have to agree. They act a buffer for us and have ever been on friendly terms. See to the delivery of supplies to them tomorrow. We will not turn a blind eye to their misfortune or suffering when are lands remain safe."

The King sighed now and too seated himself across from Thranduil. "Also Thranduil, I want you to go there tomorrow and see for yourself just how dire the situation has become. See with your eyes, and tell me truly what the report did not."

  
Thranduil nodded, agreeing to his King's request. He waited for more instructions that he knew was coming.

"My counselors are preparing the supplies and a small convey will go with you. And Lord Glorfindel.." Oropher debated a little on what to do with him. " I will not have him go. We will not tell his Lordship of your plans tomorrow, for i do not believe this information should be privy to him. Understood?"

"And when do you plan on meeting with Glorfindel?" Thranduil found himself having to ask, even if the King might want to change the subject. The dream from last night still lay heavy in his heart, so heavy that he found he could not hide it.

Oropher thought for a moment for a response, but stopped when he saw his son's eyes suddenly darken. Alarm flashed in his mind, and he wondered why or what would cause Thranduil's expression to darken. His eyes were stormy now as if a shadow had settled into the depths of his eyes. Indeed, something heavy hung in his mind.

"What is it Thranduil? Please speak your mind. Tell me what troubles your soul." Oropher's piercing gaze was set on Thranduil, who's unblinking deep green eyes let all his forbidding worry reflect a future he was sure would come to pass.

"Was it a vision?" Oropher asked, knowing his son from time to time had the gift of foresight, a blessing the Valar had granted to him since he was but a youth in Doriath. Thranduil use to share visions with him until the last hundred years and Oropher wondered if perhaps the visions had stopped as they sometimes do with those who had been gifted. He also know that Thranduil's gift was weak in comparison with others, but still, a gift it was. But now, seeing his son with his eyes so haunted, Oropher knew a vision had came to his son.

Despite his father's beckoning, Thranduil debated if he should speak of his dreams, afraid the death he envisioned would only move his father to refuse all chances of alliance. "The news of the increased orc actives worries me." He feigned a believable truth to the question, not wanting to talk about the vision with his father.

"No Thranduil. The last I saw your eyes so haunted you had been given the vision of your cousin's death and hence helped prevent the tragedy from happening. If the Valar have granted you another vision, I would know what this vision is." Oropher strongly emphasized his words, using his authority over his only son.

Thranduil knew his father would not let this go, and he could not hide his worries from the one who could read past his masks and his enigma. Oropher could keep him frozen with his gaze forever so he knew it was best to open up and share what he saw.

"A dream I have had leaves me waking with little peace. I wake in dread and can feel the cold of something that would claim me." Thranduil stood now, not wanting to sit any longer. He moved to where his father had once stood, and he now looked out into the Greenwood, where the gentle dusk was setting. The forest calmed his spirits now, and despite himself, he felt his heart be still, even as he recounted that dreadful vision. "The dream is always the same, never changing and ever dreadful. In a place I know not, I fight alone within a never ending army, as great as any sea, rolling as a great black wave of tragedy."

Thranduil's voice dripped with his forbidding dread. The dark of his dreams overcame even the peace of the Greenwood, and he slightly trembled as within his mind, the gore and death manifested around him. "The blood flows as rivers, raining down on me, and it flows even to the sky covering the moon. It is there that I see myself as silent as the dead." Thranduil turned now to his father, directly staring into his ancient eyes.

"I believe if we stay isolated it will be the doom of our people." Thranduil added, admitting his deepest fear to his father. He turned his gaze back to the forest, not wanting to see the reaction within his father's eyes. He let his eyes rest on the leaves that gently blew, now illuminated with the soft of lantern glow, as the setting sun was painting the forest ever darker.

Oropher listened to Thranduil's words, wrapping the vision around in his mind. He pondered the fears, pondered the meaning. But he did not see the vision the same as Thranduil did. Instead, the vision confirmed his feelings and fears, that by getting involved with the Noldor, he and his people would be thrown into the fire with death being their only solace. The Noldor and Gil-galad would be their downfall, their doom as they were a shamed and outcast people forever in Oropher's eyes. Nothing they could do would ever wipe the blood from their ancestor's hands and this vision confirmed this, for the blood on their souls would follow them ever through the ages, condemning generation after generation.

Oropher walked to his son now, pulling Thranduil to turn his gaze back on him. Oropher knew this vision had come to his son now because the Noldor came knocking at their door, demanding their allegiance, demanding they submit to their call. Glorfindel had invaded his realm, and Oropher scowled inside. Glorfindel had to leave before things got even more complicated. He knew that Thranduil was falling for him, and he would not loose yet another family member to their kind.  
Sending Thranduil away and then dismissing Glorfindel was only for the better. He would not let Glorfindel distance Thranduil from him.

Oropher suddenly smiled now, as if Thranduil's forbording words had flowed away with the gentle breeze that blew in from the Greenwood. "We shall dine tonight underneath the forest canopy, for I have an announcement for Lord Glorfindel. Please be present in an hour's time."

Thranduil let his curious gaze linger on his father as he waited for what exactly the announcement would be. But Oropher stated nothing more. Instead he simply dismissed his son, as he wished to longer to speak with him until the night's dinner.

Oropher watched him leave, wrapping his intentions deep within his mind. Thranduil would learn of his plans when the time was ready. Oropher breathed in the cool of the night, realizing that he needed to prepare for the work that must be done. He summoned for Galion, who entered momentarily. Oropher instructed that the alfresco dinner be set up within the hour, with only Glorfindel, Thranduil and himself to attend.

As Galion was leaving, Oropher suddenly stopped him with a question. "Galion, please tell me what you saw today between Lord Glorfindel and Thranduil. Is there anything that I would need to know?"

"No my lord, there is nothing to tell of that is of strange nature between the two."

He watched as Oropher studied him, strong eyes burrowing deep into his own, as if Oropher were reading his mind, but Galion kept his silence. For several minutes of silence Oropher kept his intent gaze on him, until finally, he dismissed him. Galion left feeling uneasy, but he quickly switched his mind to carry out the task that he had been asked to do.

\---------------

Just before the dinner was to start, Galion sought out Glorfindel, moving quickly to his rooms. In all the rushed preparation for the dinner, Galion had forgot to inform Glorfindel beforehand that his presence has been requested. He paused a little outside Glorfindel's door, listening to hear if he was inside. Galion heard nothing, so he rapped on the door.

"Lord Glorfindel." Galion knocked, calling for him. He waited, listening for a sound from within the rooms, and smiled to Glorfindel when he opened the door. "King Oropher has personally invited you to dine with him tonight. You do have some time to change if you like, but we must go soon."

Glorfindel nodded, accepting the invitation from the King. "I have already refreshed myself, so it will not take me long to change into a suitable attire for a dinner with his Lordship."

Glorfindelwas polite, but a little taken aback by the late invitation. But this was the Greenwood, and he reminded himself that this world ran on the whims of its King. He closed his door, and later emerged, dressed as elegantly as he could. Glorfindel knew he looked magnificent this night, and his sharp hearing heard the faint gasp from Galion as he stepped beside him. Glorfindel laughed within, pleased with himself.

"Please follow me this way." Galion smiled to Glorfindel. "Dinner tonight will be beneath the trees this night out in the forest, for it is our King's desire." Galion watched Glorfindel smile with this news, his twinkling eyes showing that the idea pleased him greatly.

"The night is most fair and I admit that I have wanted to dine out of doors in the forest since I have arrived. Will there be many others tonight?" Glorfindel did not think it would be one of the fabled feasts the wood-elves had with much song and merriment, but he found himself still asking. And Galion's response confirmed it moments later.

"No my Lord. Tonight will just be the King, you, and Thranduil. Our King, it seems, wishes to discuss something with you." Galion led Glorfindel down a hall he had not taken before which opened up to the forest. Glorfindel stepped outside, and breathed the cool night air in this early summer's night.

The trees were tall and straight in this area, with slender twisting branches that formed a living trellis over the dining area. Long hanging lanterns swayed gently in the night breezes, casting their delicate light down on the table tops, illuminating the wood with a rich warm glow. Glorfindel could see that the table was just set for three with the plates standing empty, and goblets turned down. Empty pitchers carved of deep red wood stood atop the table, and in the center of the table was a woodland center-piece. The wood of it was twisted with the branches wound around each other, winding into a circular design with pine cones, red berries and large green leaves finishing the design. It was a complex piece, but made of the simplest elements from the forest, reflecting the land where they had been found. The forest played a perfect host to the spot for dinner. The trees were fragrant and the sounds from its depths were soothing.

Glorfindel was just about to take a seat at the spot where Galion had pointed was to be his, but before he could, Thranduil and Oropher appeared, tall mithril figures clad in silvery green garments, emerald eyes shining bright like jewels.

"Good evening, Lord Glorfindel." Oropher appeared cordial, greeting Glorfindel for whom he had purposely distanced himself from thus far during his stay.

"Good evening King Oropher, Prince Thranduil." Glorfindel inclined his head respectfully, and took his seat when the other two had taken theirs.

A glance from frosty green eyes were cast in Glorfindel's direction before Oropher began his speech. "I certainly hope you like this setting tonight in which we din. With such a peaceful night it seemed senseless to not commune with it for dinner. My soul too yearns for the openness of the forest, and even I could not resist the Greenwood's call." Oropher stated nothing about his plans, even though he saw both the curiosity in Glorfindel's and Thranduil's eyes.

"I most certainly do like this setting and am glad to be in your company this night, under the trees and stars of Greenwood. Thank you, King Oropher, for this invitation."

And Glorfindel studied father and son this night, so curious as to why he had been summoned to a dinner this late beneath the very canopy of the forest. The king's face seemed more relaxed this night and his crown held gilded branches. Thranduil wore no circlets in his hair, and his long silver hair was illuminated under the lantern light.

Thranduil's eyes turned on Glorfindel and he knew that Oropher scowled a little with the knowing of his infatuation. His father's glacial eyes reflected his disapproval. But with as much as the king seemed to scowl, setting his eyes as ice, Thranduil continued with his mirth, not letting his King deter his worship of the attractive Glorfindel before him.

Oropher's attention was snapped from the scene when the plates were brought and the wine was being poured. Elf after elf brought plates of breads, and fruits, berries and vegetables, all made in delectable dishes who aromas filled their senses. The dinner was delicately placed on their plates and their goblets were now full. Oropher knew he could once again focus his attention on their visitor who sat before him.

'How to rid him of my realm.' Oropher thought, knowing that he did not wish to keep Glorfindel here much longer. He needed the other gone, knowing that the longer he stayed, the more a thorn in his side he would become.

Oropher looked at Thranduil, who adored Glorfindel. His eyes had given him away earlier when they had last conversed. But now Thranduil's eyes were blank, hiding the truth, but Oropher already knew what that truth was. He now feared that not only had his son lost his mind, but he too had also lost his heart as well to Glorfindel. This was something he just would not have. Oropher frowned within, minding to keep his face expressionless, and he remembered the ones who had been brought to their doom by the hand's of the Noldor. Thranduil was weak, Oropher sighed from within. It would be his job to protect Thranduil from himself.

Oropher then turned his attention to Glorfindel while he sipped on his wine. The sweet juices of the nectar were barely perceived by the king however, for his mind boiled with anger due to Glorfindel. He almost scowled when Glorfindel broke the silence.

"If I lived in the Greenwood, I would dine every night in the forest, no matter the season, I would let the forest be my surroundings. This dinner is perfect." Glorfindel felt at ease in the beautiful setting, finally able to speak more now that the serving of the dinner had ended and the wine had been poured. He failed to add that he was slightly disappointed that no music was played. But then he could understand why as he reflected on the forest's night setting. The Greenwood itself created its own symphony with the wind in the leaves and the chorus of the insects, calling from beyond where they ate. The fireflies lit up the forest around them, thousands of twinkling lights that signaled in their own language, delightfully illuminating the forest. Glorfindel sipped the wine, wondering what Oropher had to say, wondering why the King took his time when there was important and pressing business to discuss.

He looked to Thranduil, who sat inscrutable, keeping his silence. His eyes were masked, revealing nothing that was in his mind. And he sipped his wine as if he had an unquenchable thirst. The silence was held between the three, until it was Oropher who sat his goblet down, ready to speak on the matters that needed to be addressed.

"Tomorrow we will discuss whatever your High-King has proposed, that scheme that has sent you to our lands and into our realm." Oropher did not even look at Glorfindel when he made his plans known. "It will just be you and I, Glorfindel. I see no reason to include my counsellors in this meeting tomorrow. You will speak your words, and I will listen. Only after you speak will I then make my stance known."

Oropher stopped speaking now, not really wanting to met with Glorfindel but he knew he must. He already knew his plan now, let Glorfindel speak his venomous words, and then send him packing when he would shoot down this request of alliance. As much as Oropher wanted peace, the battle with the dark-lord did not have to involve them. He would not get his people involved with the strifes of the Noldor, protecting only instead the Greenwood, the one place in all of these woeful lands that he cared enough to fight for.

Oropher thought over the events in his life and he thought of Thingol, his distant kinsmen who had been slain by outside forces. He would not suffer that same fate or have his realm fall with the meddling of others. Greenwood was to forever remain a secluded realm, unanswerable to no other King or people, free from all politics that plagued the Noldor and those who aligned with them. He would just dismiss Glorfindel then. That was his plan and he would stick to it regardless of what anyone else thought in the Greenwood. And Thranduil would be off and away, unable to stop or interfere with his decisions. Soon the Greenwood would be free from the eyes of any outsiders, and Oropher felt a peace fill his mind.

  
'This was it.' Glorfindel turned Oropher's words and his tone over in his mind. A rush of excitement pulsated in him heart, and his mind settled into peace and an ease. Finally. After days of waiting and of being played and toyed with, tomorrow he would finally be called on to do what he had been sent to do. 

He knew the King would be difficult, hie eyes cold as ice revealed this to him. But a chance to discuss the alliance could possibly sway him, for Glorfindel knew Oropher saw that evil was ever growing. He would use the knowledge he had of Oropher's past, the hurt that happened in Doriath, Oropher's desire to keep his people safe. The ethos that drove him to isolation could somehow be turned to drive him to alliance. This Glorfindel knew. Oropher would not have his people suffer and fall to the dark lord. Joining the alliance to eliminate this evil was the only course of action they could take now.

"I look forward to tomorrow." Glorfindel started to speak, but he was cut off again by Oropher.

"After breakfast meet me in the council room. You will find it next to the throne room, and if you become lost, I am sure Galion will lead you." Oropher spoke matter of fact, voice devoid of interest or caring. The cold of his tone stifled the mood, and the group feel into silence once more.

To Glorfindel the night seemed less, even though Thranduil was present.

For his part, Thranduil kept his silence, knowing exactly what Oropher was doing. He felt disappointed and frustrated, and all of his emotions collided within his heart and mind. His dark dreams screamed in the back of his mind, and the beauty of Glorfindel before him burned in his heart. Glorfindel was madding to him, tugging at his soul with a force he had not felt before.

He had lived through many ages now and was far from his youthful days of when he had been more interested with the mysterious and the wonders of Arda. He had taken only a few lovers along the years and shared with the fun that the closeness would bring. And here in Greenwood he held the people's admiration and he would cast his charm on them not really caring to ever follow through with his games. It was not out of malice that Thranduil would tease and never act. That was not his aim. If truth be told, not even he understood what kept him from acting and binding his heart to another.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to bind his heart, for binding meant giving up control. His attraction to Glorfindel he understood easily enough. What he failed to comprehend was just why his heart ached with a longing that he could neither stifle nor control. This sensation was new to him and had been slowly intensifying the last couple of days. Tonight he felt the tug of Glorfindel burn in his heart, torching his mind, as if the the other were literally a fire that was aflame within.

Thranduil's mind was spinning, and because of his exhaustion from the morning's healing and the potent wine, he felt as if the Greenwood were spinning around him. He glanced at Oropher, unsure if the words the king spoke were for him, as the warmth in his mind muted all other senses. How he wished he could just get up and run off into the Greenwood, for he knew that this was no simple desire that had ensnarled him. This was something that was far more dominating and far more dangerous. This was not the time to loose his heart, for the dark lord had already waged a war on the Noldor and everyone knew that days of strife and war were coming. Now was the time for strength and focus, not to be thrown into a whims of desire.

Thranduil closed his eyes, trying to shut the glorious sight of Glorfindel from of his mind. How his hair shone under the lanterns, in such a golden warm rippling wave that almost begged to be touched. His eyes as clear as the gentle summer's sky, were tender, enchanting even. Suddenly to Thranduil, the wine didn't taste so good, and on opening his eyes, he refused the refill of his wine goblet. With his downcast eyes, he noticed not the gaze his father was giving him.

"Have you no hunger this night, Thranduil?" Oropher smiled, as he knew Thranduil was astute enough to realize that their guest would soon be departing from their lands for good. Nothing would ever come from his fruitless infatuation, for the distance of their lands and the duty that Thranduil felt to his people would keep them sundered for good.

"I admit, I do have a weariness tonight, my King." Thranduil looked at his father, whose eyes were gentle on him, showing concern and care for him, even with their foreign guest present.

The wind stirred the leaves a little and even the sounds of the forest paused, and Thranduil lowered his eyes, letting his sight settle on his uneaten food, his appetite was for something other. He knew his father was sending him away to only play his games with his life. And while Oropher was in no way cruel, the king demanded complete control over his household, no matter his age. Thranduil would always be ever subject to his father's will. But still he knew, Oropher loved him.

And to his father, Glorfindel was the enemy personified. The weight of Oropher's gaze pulled his eyes to his father's. And although his lips said nothing, his thoughts resonated clearly in his mind. His father now wanted him to stay away from Glorfindel, and he would send him back across the plains and mountains, back into the west. The Greenwood would remain isolated with only some contact with their kin in Lorien. And when the war against the Dark Lord came, Greenwood would not unite with the Noldor. They would fight and defend their realm alone to their own fates.

'Alone.' Thranduil thought that terrifying word again. He was far too exhausted and bewitched to stay any longer, and he wanted to retreat.

"You should take your leave, Thranduil." Oropher stated, and he was not surprised when Thranduil soon excused himself politely, departing back to the citadel.

At Thranduil's departure, Glorfindel realized that for the first time just he and Oropher were alone. The serving elves were ever present, but they were silent as if they were stone statues that were standing watch other their dinner spot. The silence that feel between them stretched for an uncomfortable time, even more so than before.

Oropher enjoyed the silence, glad that Glorfindel shifted a little with the weight of his stare. He moved his eyes over Glorfindel and accessed him. It was true that Glorfindel had one of the fairest faces and an air about him that conveyed his glory and might. Oropher could easily understand why his son became so weak in Glorfindel's presence. He was even more magnificent than what the lore spoke of, and although they had both lived during the First Age as lords in their realms, the two had never met until he had been sent by Gil-galad and this absurd request.

It was true that Oropher knew like all the others, that peace would no more find them until the dark lord was defeated. But the Noldor would only lead them to death and misery, a fate he did not want his people to suffer. The more Oropher reflected on it, the more angered he grew.

Glorfindel wasn't sure what to expect from Oropher now that the buffer that was Thranduil had left. The night continued to be ever pleasant, with the fragrant forest breezes, stirring the leaves and of the soothing sounds of the Greenwood's inhabitants. Not a word come from Oropher however. Glorfindel silently finished his plate, wondering what thoughts flowed through Oropher's mind. He was use to kings, having served many through his years, with the dearest to his heart being Turgon and now Gil-galad. But none of the king's he had known could have prepared him for the one who ruled deep in the heart of Greenwood.

"I would like to say," Glorfindel decided that he had had enough of silence for one night. "I really enjoyed the walk through the north of Greenwood."

He wondered if Oropher would engage him in conversation. A subtle glance of his icy eyes locked with his, but all too soon, the gaze was replaced with silence. Oropher seemed little involved with him, aloof in his enjoyment of the delicious dinner meal. Glorfindel realized the patience Oropher possessed and how lesser beings could crumble under that wait. If Oropher noticed his want for conversation, the other conveyed not to Glorfindel. The slow realization that Oropher had already dismissed him this night caused Glorfindel to rise.

"Excuse me, my lord, for I too shall retire this night. I need to prepare for the morrow's meeting."

At this, Oropher nodded respectfully to Glorfindel, before he returned to the enjoyment of his wine. He smiled in his victory this night, and let the beauty of the forest's peace envelope his senses.

Glorfindel headed back to his rooms with every intent of reviewing the documents he had brought from Gil-galad for the meeting that was to be held tomorrow. On entering his room, it was already lit, but he thought little of it. He walked into his bedchamber, noting the high position of Ithil barely peaking through the forest sky.

"This late already." He mused aloud, as he realized how long dinner had been. He stretched and removed his tunic before sitting down on the bed to remove his boots. He stood once more, stretching, when he then peered at his balcony. Someone was out there. Moving quietly, he approached cautiously as if it were he who had encroached on someone else's private chambers.

"Thranduil!" He recognized the long silver hair from the one who had his back to him, staring out into the dark of Greenwood forest. "I thought you had retired for the night." He came to stand alongside the other who seemed entranced by something. "Is all well?" He asked over the strange behavior.

Thranduil turned to Glorfindel and let his his eyes dance over him. His bare torso was illuminated under the lantern's glow, almost taking his breath away from him. Glorfindel seemed as one of the Valar to Thranduil. As if in a trance, he moved his long finger towards Glorfindel's chest, touching the soft skin delicately as if Glorfindel would vanish from his caress.

"Thranduil?" Glorfindel's heart pounded in his chest, for his want for Thranduil  resounded poignantly to him, despite his trepidations.

Thranduil did not answer, and almost paralleled the earlier silence Oropher had given him at dinner. Deep emerald eyes locked on him, plainly revealing just how intense the want for him was. Without realizing it, Glorfindel took hold of Thranduil's hand, stopping him from advancing any further. He did not push Thranduil's hand away, but held it tightly, until it was Thranduil who pulled away instead.

"Forgive me," Thranduil laughed, a nervous uneasy quiver echoed in his voice. "For I am unusually weary tonight and my better judgement must have betrayed me." He moved away from Glorfindel as if fleeing from a foe, heeding not the calls from Glorfindel who begged for him to stay.

Glorfindel heard his door close shut before he went into his bedchamber. He was completely exhausted now. If attraction could be stifled, Glorfindel knew his mission would not be in peril, but just like Thranduil, he was a prisoner to his wants. He could almost imagine what his king would say if he were run out of Greenwood for acting on his whims however. But Glorfindel was a sensual one, who liked to act on his desires and to Glorfindel, Thranduil plainly yearned for him. He sighed as he leaned back onto his bed. But so troubled was Glorfindel with the want for Thranduil, he knew he would not find rest.

The summer night was tranquil, sweet fragrances of the forest filled the air but the peace could just not reach him. He knew Oropher already did not trust him, his disdain for him was painfully evident. Thranduil was grown and free to make his own decisions, this he knew. But Glorfindel was a guest here in the Greenwood and he knew he could do nothing now to jeopardize the mission. 

And Oropher had finally agreed to a meeting. With the one thing he had came here for just on the horizon, he knew he could not stray now, no matter how he wanted Thranduil. He hated to push Thranduil away but the need to get Oropher to agree to this alliance was greater still. That one agreement was of the utmost importance, more so than was his want for flesh. And Thranduil, with all of his sensual desire, had unleashed in Glorfindel a yearning he had not had since his return from the halls of Mandos . It had been awhile since he had felt his heart awaken with a yearning and the emotions pulled at his soul, leaving him weary within. Those emerald eyes had flashed at him with confusion, hurtful even as if pushing him away he had shattered his heart that night. Thranduil could not understand his predicament. Thranduil was indeed carefree as Elrond had told him, as if he was a bright soul who seemed to dance through the days without regard for actions.

If this had been any other point in time that did not call for the winning of an agreement to align from all the great realms of Arda, Glorfindel would have willingly and gladly accepted the advances from Thranduil. But Gil-galad had thought enough of the Silvan elves to want them jointly fighting together, creating a one mighty elven people as had not been seen since the great sundering of the ancient tribes. He could not fail. He would not let Oropher best him. He would not let the weakness of his heart allow Oropher to dismiss him. 

Tomorrow he would make his case before Oropher, and the future that lay before them all would become just a little more clearer.


	6. What My Mistake Was (Part 1)

"Kill him!"

The orders echoed through the forest, words that tore through his heart, piercing it with panic. He was surrounded by a great host of orcs, leaving him little chance of survival. He was blooded from numerous wounds, alone, and outnumbered, but although weary with his pain and his bleak situation, he continued to cut them down. And just when it seemed his victory may be, he was cut in the side, brought down by an foul orcish blade. In a slow fall to his knees, that one seemed to look directly into his own eyes. Bright emerald eyes showed no fear before the final death blow took his life.

"Thranduil!" Glorfindel screamed, awakening from his dream. The echo of his voice cut through the dark of his room as he slowly came to realization that he had only just been dreaming. Still as he sat in his bed, his breath was heavy and fast, and beads of sweat from the realistic night terror had formed on his brow. He pondered the dream, wondering why he would have dreamed a dream so vivid and horrifying. He had witnessed the prince's death, and his chest pounded still, his eyes blinked in confusion, his soul felt dread.

He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, but he didn't rise, still shaken from the dream. He little remembered having fallen asleep after Thranduil had left, but somehow in the night he must have fallen into reverie. Looking to his night stand, he saw the empty bottle of wine, and wondered if it had been the potent spirits that had pulled him under, or if again the soul of the forest had cast her charms on him once again.

Thranduil. He wondered about the other, not sure if that friendship he had so freely given him now had fallen to ruin, or if simply Thranduil would only try harder to seduce him with his wicked ways. Glorfindel was uneasy this new day, worried by his dream and heart perplexed, regarding how to act with Thranduil. He did not want to reject the attraction for Glorfindel knew he desired Thranduil as much as the other did. But unlike Thranduil, he was responsible for swaying a stubborn Woodland King to put aside centuries old hurt and distrust to work again with the Noldor. In Glorfindel's wisdom he knew that even the smallest of slights could cause ruin to his mission. Still, Glorfindel yearned to really know Thranduil, even if deep within, he knew it was a dream that could never be. Their fates would never bind the two together, for Thranduil was the Greenwood, and the Greenwood could never be his home.

His thoughts now moved away from his longing, preparing instead his approach for the meeting. He felt no unease, no fluttering of heart, for despite Oropher's obstinate manner, Glorfindel knew he was mightier. But again, in his wisdom, Glorfindel feigned humility, fully following Thranduil's advice on letting Oropher dictate the dance he found himself in. He would be humble, but cunning, firm, but docile, allowing Oropher to speak his peace, while speaking his own with a mightier and wiser voice.

Rising as if in a trance, his thoughts moved back to that dream. The forest seemed to call for him, and he became lost in that dream once more. He stepped out into the balcony, wondering what time it was. The stars were starting to fade, Ithil wained, but the dawn had not yet broken. The forest around him seemed to whisper with their arcane words and Glorfindel knew that it was the forest that had given him that vision as if moved by the grace of the Valar. A warning. He thought, but he did not know the place or time this warning belonged to.

With a troubled mind, Glorfindel dressed himself, hoping that Thranduil would be present for today's meeting with the King. He tarried in his room, lingering there in this early morning, waiting for the breakfast hour to begin. He would be present for the meeting that morning with Oropher, although his mind just would not move from his forbidding thoughts regarding Thranduil.

\-----------------

The same waning moon that was descending down over the Greenwood was still shining bright in the peaceful valley of Imladris. The valley's Lord sat in an unfinished garden, having been woken from a troubling dream just as Glorfindel had been far away beyond the Misty Mountains. Elrond's dream had been vague, but still the weight of its worry had pulled him from rest. He had felt a stirring, and he had walked almost as if in dream, out from the peaceful rooms and down into this garden, carved out at the bottom of a ravine.

He let his eyes settle on the budding garden around him, and he smiled as he seated himself on a stone bench. This garden had been built for his love, Celebrian, who kept him strong in these trying years. But even as he tried to move his thoughts to her, again an image of a river as red as the deep scarlet roses that bloomed in this garden flowed within his mind. And then the images of the leaves of a forest withered and fell, the blazing moon crumbled and its pieces fell to ash covering the forest. And then in his dream flashed emerald eyes, ones that Elrond knew all too well. They were unblinking, hallow, starring past him in that awful stare of death.

It was that arcane forest, he knew, which had surfaced in his dreams. The lands were crying out, desperate almost in its reach to him. And Elrond sat shaken, unable to know exactly what had moved him, not sure exactly what to make of the dream that had came to him this night. He knew that dreams were sometimes nothing more than worries and frustrations manifesting themselves for some sort of resolution. But this dream was not that. This dream was something else. And he found himself standing, letting his gaze look to the east.

"Elrond?"

The gentle voice of Erestor no stronger than a breeze, caused Elrond to turn to see the other descend down the stone steps carved into the side of the steep ravine. Elrond gratefully sighed within, relieved that he did not have to share the early morning alone with his forbidding thoughts that still refused to leave his mind.

"What manner of worry has now lured you here?" Erestor seated himself on one of the stone benches within the garden. His despondent eyes glanced over their dark surroundings, and he wondered why his lord had journeyed to this spot before the rise of Anor had illuminated their lands.

Elrond wasn't surprised that the still mourning Erestor had seen or heard him leave the halls of their home for this secluded garden, for Erestor's sleep came little to him now. Elrond knew he walked the halls most nights, still a prisoner ever of his never ending grief. And that dark dream and the war on the elves that had claimed so many all collided within his mind, and Elrond's mood grew darker even. He let his face fall into a frown, for he knew that war would come again, even if they decided not to take action against the Dark Lord. War was coming, there was no denying that. And his thoughts moved to Glorfindel now, who suddenly burned in his mind.

"Glorfindel." He whispered, and at hearing that name, he saw Erestor close his eyes, as the other pondered the name he had spoken. But Erestor's words were slow to come. Elrond studied Erestor, who looked more troubled this night, as if his dreams too had left him disenchanted in this pause before the dawn. Together they sat in silence, with only the still sunless day enveloping them.

"Glorfindel was the right choice to plead alliance with the Woodland King."

Erestor's words were softer still, falling and rising within the breezes that blew as he spoke. His words were almost drowned out by the rustling of the ivy that grew on the stone statues in the garden. But Erestor's words were true, and Elrond found himself nodding, even with the feelings that his dream had left him with, and that flash of eyes that only brought doubt within his mind.

"There is no hope for an alliance." Elrond's frown grew deeper as he came to understand the dream. Not even Thranduil's influence could sway Oropher's will, and the dream led Elrond to conclude that. There would never be a united elven people rising up against the Dark Lord. And in their fraction, Elrond was not sure if hope had all but abandoned them.

"On Glorfindel's return, I shall just have to inform the High-King that the Noldor may never march with our Silvan kin."

"Has there been news on the negotiations?"

Erestor wondered over the darkening mood of Elrond's, knowing that his lord was blessed with the strongest gift of foresight. Elrond's silence to the question worried him greatly, and he pressed the issue again.

"Did you have a vision that would lead you to know the outcome of the request?" He rephrased his question, thoroughly intrigued due to the absence of words from his lord.

"I have not yet lost all faith that we may somehow find victory in the end." Elrond didn't care to elaborate as to specifically what the victory would be over, leaving Erestor to interpret his lord's thoughts.

"As much as I would like to believe in a victory, I believe Gil-galad's request is only one of folly. Why waste our energy and risk someone's life to negotiate with one whom would never yield to our High-King's commands?" The ever pragmatic Erestor finally said the words he so wanted to say during that one counsel meeting in which Glorfindel had been sent to the Greenwood. "Lorien will not march without Oropher's agreement, and we waste focus and time with the courting of the Greenwood."

Elrond understood the validity of the question, for in his dealing with Oropher the outcome was usually the will of what Oropher wanted. The other had been ever distant, scornful, ever judgmental to the lords of the Noldor. He never forgave, and Elrond doubted that he wanted to, holding onto his grief and his disdain as if it were a scar across his very soul. When Oroher wasn't keeping his distance, he was ever biter, biting, and uncouth in his dealings with them. But the other lords of the Sindar looked to him as their leader and those that shared his opinions dwelt in the south of Lindon and had willingly followed him long ago far over the Misty Mountains and into the eastern wilds. Elrond knew the force that was Oropher, whose caustic words fueled some to action, while disaffecting others. He was such a polarizing spirit that burned with both fire and with ice.

"I should have done more to counsel Glorfindel regarding Oropher." Elrond questioned his decision on sending Glorfindel so blindly to the Greenwood.

"The talk of idle tongues would have already poisoned the image of the Woodland King within these lands, and with due cause. Those words would have long ago reached the ears of Glorfindel. Still I believe him prudent enough to have let those words dissolve before they settled into his mind. Question not your actions, for you deemed what was right. Your council would have only brought more apprehension to his trials, I believe."

Elrond smiled at the reassurance his advisor gave to him. So astute was Erestor, but ever still was he wrapped within his dolor, cold as the harsh winter ice, frozen in the darkest of its nights. But his thoughts did not linger long on Erestor, instead flowing back to that distant ruler far off in the east.

Elrond still would never forget that one last time he had seen Oropher, and would ever reflect on the person he had become, as one so shaped by the events that he had lived through. Elrond would have thought that Oropher could have done better to have saved his soul from the ages that had claimed so many. Many had survived and had only grown stronger, and the ones that could not had sailed to the west to heal their broken souls. But Oropher had done neither, for he was deeply wounded beyond repair, and nor could seem to transcend his grief. It was as if he was a shadow caught between the breaking of the dawn into day. A shadow that was caught in a perpetual twilight that haunted Arda all through these years.

Those last words Oropher had spoken to him were forever engrained in his mind. The other had only answered his questions with riddles that were sardonic, caustic, hurtful. All Noldor were covered in the blood of the kin-slayers, all Noldor held that guilt of the wars and grief that had been brought to these lands. And although that transparent hate and disdain dripped within his words, his eyes were something else entirely. Instead of hate or pain, or any emotion for that matter, all that stared back at him were icy inscrutable eyes. And oh had Elrond shuddered, so haunted he was by those eyes that seemed as the other were alive but also dead. A shadow was all that Elrond could think to describe the other.

Erestor waited patiently for a response, seeing that Elrond was lost now within one of his memories. Or perhaps he simply let his worry about the Dark Lord overwhelm him once again. For although they had felt a reprieve from his wrath, it would only be a matter of time before he would march to bring ruin to them all.

And Elrond closed his eyes, letting the fading night lighten his worry, for Erestor was right. Glorfindel had been the correct choice to send to the Greenwood, and he had to force himself to find his faith that Glorfindel could get the Greenwood's King to march. That great host of Silvan elves would certainly help their cause. He was wrong to doubt and to jump to conclusions. The dream could mean something else, and on reflection of that, Elrond turned to Erestor.

"Erestor." He saw the deep grey eyes focus on him, and he seated himself on the bench by him. "I would like to tell you a dream that woke me this very early morning." And the dream was told with all of its vague details to Erestor.

And Erestor took in the words, and his deep grey eyes held concern now, but he paused, running the dream one more time through his mind. He took a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh and responded.

"I would say that your forbidding is justified, for death will come to the Greenwood."

"Death say you?" Elrond was surprised, but deep within he had suspected as much. "Truthfully though, I was afraid you would say what I was unwilling to think myself." Elrond stood, wishing the miles did not separate them now, wishing that he could somehow be there to guide the Greenwood King. But he knew his words would only be silenced with wrath.

"We do not yet know the hour of this vision, or even what would cause it to come to pass." Erestor also rose, falling into his familiar duty of chief-advisor to his Lord.

Elrond knew the words were true, for visions and dreams did not always occur until years later, turning over into prophecies, and sometimes those prophecies fell into legends unfilled. But still he wondered what was occurring in that secluded realm. "Let us hope that we will soon hear from Glorfindel, for I know that Gil-galad grows impatient to begin our battle plans. Sauron has attacked us and now he makes war with men. His hunger will not cease until we all have fallen."

"We both know that time moves ever differently in the Woodland Realm. Haste and urgency do not have the same meaning as we have come to learn and understand. Moons could start and end their phases a dozen times, and the Lord Oropher would still be keeping Glorfindel away with his wiles and aversion. I look not for Glorfindel to return for awhile now, for the whims of Greenwood would seem to keep him prisoner. Perhaps that could be the meaning to your riddle that woke you from your sleep."

"That was my first impression. Yes, that in Oropher's refusal to relent, our plans could come to ruin. Those eyes, so dead in my dream, I have only seem once before in another."

"Oropher." Erestor breathed, wrapping the name in his exasperation with that other. Erestor too could recall those eyes, and hadn't thought to interpret Elrond's dream that way. It was folly he knew, and perhaps they would have had better luck convincing the elves of Lothlorien alone to join. But no, the path to the Silvan elves led straight through Oropher, and Erestor wondered just how Glorfindel fared.

"Still you are correct with your statement, my friend. Glorfindel is the right choice to persuade the Greenwood to join our call to arms. If anyone can match the will of Oropher or withstand his disregard with the patience required, it would only be Glorfindel."

Elrond looked to Erestor again, letting his gratitude for his friend's council reflect out from his features. Anor was slowly rising and Elrond watched as slowly the sky above them transformed with the sunrise. "It is time I take my leave, for I need to see with starting my day. If you would please excuse me."

Erestor watched as Elrond departed, mouth pursed as he thought over Elrond's words. Death and pain would never leave them, he had accepted. He just wondered who it would claim next.

\---------------------

Thranduil had left before the dawn that morning with a group of ten sentries in his company. They had left by moonlight, with two horses that carried some needed supplies to their southern neighbors, the woodland men, who dwelt along the southern parts of the forest and the glades around it. They had little dealings with the men, for they were a very rustic and crude people, but with what little contact they made, they had always found the men to be friendly and even engaging sporadically with trade and the sharing of information.

The walk through the forest brought memories back to them since they had once dwelt in the far southern areas of Amon Lac. Their path was still visible, where long ago they had traveled daily. This path was now used by the woodland men and sometimes still by the elves when they cared to venture to these southern parts. The forest was darker in the south of the forest, with stranger trees that were more dense, and whose wood seemed to bend and twist, covered with thick hanging vines. The foliage as well was denser and grew more wild. But it was still a fair forest, with bright green leaves and animals plenty. And although they no longer dwelt in this area, they still felt as guardians to these woods, although with the passing of the years, men had settled here. They built scattered woodland villages and towns, and settled in glades that they had once hewn themselves, so many years ago.

Thranduil led the party who treaded quickly but cautiously. They were already a few hours away from their home, and would end up near the very edge of the western forest, near the long open glades where this particular settlement was. They knew they must pass other towns of woodman and hoped they would not be hindered on their journey through it.

\--------------

  
Glorfindel wanted to seek his friend out this early morning, to ease his spinning mind still wrapped within his dream. He also needed to talk with him, hoping he could better explain his actions and feelings before the meeting would commence. A glance in the breakfast room proved to show no sign of Thranduil. But although Thranduil was not present, Galion was. Glorfindel watched him, as he was ever in motion, an eternal conductor who moved the orchestra within Oropher's halls.

Smiling, Glorfindel called to him, snapping Galion's attention to him. "When can I expect Thranduil to join us?"

But before Galion could answer, the chief-advisor turned his attention to Glorfindel.

"Lord Glorfindel, Thranduil will not be present at the counsel today, and is busy with other matters that do not concern you." The advisor's eyes smirked a little, well aware of the plan that was to commence today within the meeting. The chief-advisor thoroughly backed Oropher's decision, as he as well had seen with his own eyes the destruction and grief that the Nolder had brought to their lives. He did not trust them to lead them wisely into battle against Sauron's forces, and even with this alliance they cried out for, he was just as doubtful as his King was that their plans would ever work.

Glorfindel watched as the advisor took his seat, and his mind suddenly flashed back to his dreams. He felt a twinge in his heart and the images form his dream kept flashing. "Kill him!" That grotesque voice echoed. He turned from the advisor's sight, not caring to respond to him, even when he stated that he would see him later at the meeting with King Oropher.

That meeting was the whole reason Gil-galad had sent him to these lands, and it was scheduled this very morning. Glorfindel felt the tug of his heart and a panic he could not explain. With legs that seemed to move on their own accord, Glorfindel let the dining hall, listening not to the word's of the king's advisor, who continued speaking to him still.

Galion watched the exchange that had occurred, noticing the strange shift deep within Glorfindel's eyes, and he paused within the early morning bustle of the dynamic dining hall. Glorfindel's eyes had held him still, although Glorfindel had already departed. And Galion wondered, ignoring everything else around him. That unease which had opened within those eyes reminded Galion of Thranduil's eyes when he shared his dreams with him. And he thought of Thranduil's dark dreams while he too stepped away from the dining hall, not caring to see to his King's counsellors this morning as he had been requested to.

He stepped into the hall, and looked out past the bustling elves who chatted and flowed in a never ending stream. Motionless, Galion may have been, but the world around him flowed as ever. "Go to Glorfindel." His heart told him, and he listened, curious as to why he could not dismiss this sudden infatuation.

Galion did not bother to even knock on Glorfindel's door, since it was slightly ajar. With a slight push, he stepped inside and watched the other buckle his sword. "Do you leave us?" Galion was confused and surprised all at once with the scene he saw. He stared into Glorfindel's blue eyes that had turned with his question.

Glorfindel bit the bottom of his lip, while he deliberated if he should respond to Galion. Galion may have been ever kind and friendly to him, but he was still the king's butler. His loyalty was first and foremost to his liege, and Glorfindel wondered if he should put his trust in him.

And in Galion's astuteness, he recognized the misgivings that Glorfindel faced. But his heart would not be still, perhaps pained now with the foreboding Thranduil would lament to him of the coming uncertainty he dreamed of night after night. And deep within Galion's heart, he too felt the winds of that uncertainty, for he had seen it in Glorfindel, he felt it in the earth, heard it whispered from the trees.

"A pressing pull I can not shake would have me come to you now." Galion kept his voice low, closing the door gently behind him. "It calls within my heart, much like the forest calls to my soul, and I could not help but see your eyes so wild in their worry."

The words he spoke stifled the circumspection he felt, and Glorfindel found the he could open up to Galion, a confidant who was also moved by the Greenwood in his own unique way. "A dream came to me and I can do no other then to heed it. I worry for someone so I must be allowed to pass from these halls unseen into the forest. I must go out in it today, so moved that I simply can not resist the forest's calls. I can not to be stopped nor questioned."

"A difficult task indeed," Galion replied. "If not impossible, for our guards are like the thousands of leaves that stand watch through out the forest. But I can try to see that your request be done." Galion motioned for Glorfindel to move closer. "The king has a passage that is known by just a few alone. It leads from these halls and far into the forest. Oropher had it constructed in secret and I only came to learn of it when Thranduil took me through it once. The passage opens in the forest, far from the eyes of our guards."

Glorfindel let his eyes open wide with the surprise of the aid that Galion offered to him. "And you would be so willing to assist me without giving word to your King? He would not have me journey through his lands without his leave."

"I would do so, because I have seen that look before that has fallen across your eyes. I will not hinder you. There is however, a challenge we must face." Galion seated himself on a chair, as he tried to think things through. "The door to the passage is within the King's private chambers, and he keeps the hall that leads to his chambers under constant guard."

"Is the chance to enter unseen impossible then?"

"Improbable, but not impossible." Galion replied, the Silvan lilt to his speech slurred now more with his spinning mind. "The guards always follow King Oropher through that private hall in a sign of respect before they return back to their spots, just outside his door. If my King has not yet left, you will be able to enter the hall unnoticed. I can always create a small diversion, and in that chaos you can then enter as you wish unseen."

Glorfindel nodded, agreeing to give the plan a try. He didn't really know how else he would be able to evade the watchful eyes of Oropher's guard. "And where can I find the door to this passage?"

Galion shook his head. "No, not like that. Once you enter, you must be ever still and silent. The guard will be just outside his door, and will hear you move around. If you are found within the King's rooms, he will have you driven out of the Greenwood forever. The Noldor would never be able to plead alliance again. Wait for me. I will enter shortly after, and will show you the passage."

Glorfindel smiled, amused he was scheming with Galion, who had ever been friendly, but strangely reserved when he had interacted with him. But now Galion seemed so bold, so trusting and willing to help without questioning much. And Glorfindel wondered the meaning of Galion's earlier words. "I am surprised, Galion, that you would help me evade a meeting that I have so desired since my arrival, and you question little as to what calls me out into the Greenwood."

"The reason must be dire enough I gathered, for I know the importance this meeting is to you. I have heard its importance in your voice, in Thranduil's, and the news we receive grows ever graver. I will not ask or question what calls you, however." He saw that Glorfindel was ready, and instructed for him to stand just beyond the hall beside a statue.

And Glorfindel arrived at the time Galion had told him to, and he waited. He saw Galion approach, carrying a tray holding bottles of wine balanced in his hands. Galion seemed to know exactly when his King would turn out from his corridor and into the larger hall, and Glorfindel watched Oropher and Galion almost collide. The sounds of crashing wine bottles breaking on the stone floor brought the curious guards out from beyond their hall. Glorfindel saw his chance and he slipped into the hall quickly, and entered into Oropher's private rooms, while the commotion continued on behind him.

Stark, was the word that came to Glorfindel's eyes when he looked around the room. But still the sitting room was entrancing enough. The chairs, the desk, the books all seemed to fade however, when Glorfindel turned and saw the grand vista that opened up to the beauty of the Greenwood. And Galion's words to him to be still on entering were needless, for he was frozen when he saw the forest before him. He heard the sound of the guards return and he silently moved to knell behind a chair, awaiting Galion's arrival. He closed his eyes and breathed in the forest, the dewy earth, and the fresh foliage were invigorating to him, even as his mind still clouded with that dream.

Soon his eyes snapped to attention when Galion finally arrived. Galion said no words, and he placed a tray down on the desk. Next he moved some empty bottles of wine from the desk onto the tray. Speaking through only his eyes and with his body, Galion motioned for Glorfindel to follow him into another room that opened up into the King's bedchambers. But Glorfindel had little time to look around as he followed into a large wardrobe.

"The guards will not hear our words from here." Galion explained, nestled between the rows of Oropher's garments. "The door to the passage way is in the study and I will point it out before I leave. The guards will hear you open and close it, so do not do so until you hear me engage them in conversation. Follow the passage through until you reach some stairs. Climb them, as they spiral upward. You will reach a door that will open out onto a branch high up on a tree. The vantage point from the tree will show you the forest floor below."

Galion allowed himself to smile to Glorfindel, surprised himself that he was acting as an accomplice with someone for whom his King had told him to distrust.

"Try as you may, you will not be able to find the door once you exit, for the door only opens from inside the passage. You can not return back to the citadel through this passage. The door will become lost to you hidden within the bark of the tree. You will never be able to find the door from the outside."

"Thank you Galion." Were the only words that Glorfindel stated, but his eyes were transparent with all the dread he held. He followed him back into the sitting room, and watched as Galion motioned to where the passage was and then how to unhitch the knob. And Galion turned, retrieving the tray, before he turned and left, leaving Glorfindel alone to face his dreams that drove him out into the forest.

\-------------

King Oropher arrived to the council right on the stroke of nine in the morning, a little later than he would have liked thanks in part to the incident in the hall with his butler. Galion was never so clumsy, almost colliding into his person, and then in the process he had destroyed two good bottles of wine. Oropher had wordlessly wondered what may have gotten into Galion this day, but he had let the subject drop, letting his mind focus instead on the meeting that would soon be underway. On entering the counsel room, he nodded his greeting to the invited counsellors. He then came to notice the lack of a certain individual in the counsel room. Troubled by this second unexpected event in the day, he turned to his chief-advisor, awaiting an explanation.

"The Lord Glorfindel has not yet appeared. I saw him this morning at breakfast, but he hastily departed and has not been seen since."

"And have you had the thought to have him escorted here?" Oropher's patience was certainly begin tested so early this day, even before he had yet to utter a single syllable to Glorfindel.

"I personally sent a guard to remind his lordship that he is expected to be present for the council that he himself requested and traveled across the lands of Arda for."

Oropher nodded, and seated himself at the head of the counsel, patiently awaiting either the arrival of Glorfindel or of the guard. After some passing of time that was done in silence, the guard arrived, returning without Glorfindel at his side.

"My King," the guard stated, "Lord Glorfindel is not within his chambers. I knocked and when I did not hear any movement from within, I preceded to enter. There was no sign of him there or in any of the halls I checked." The guard watched confused, as Oropher's face turned to smile, instead of the scowl he thought he would find on the hearing of this ill-news.

Oropher had no rage as he processed the news, and in response he kept his voice calm when he turned to address his chief-advisor. "Inform the captain of the guard to have his most elite search for the Lord Glorfindel. I will not have him afoot in my realm unattended."

Oropher leaned back into his chair, arms folded, thoroughly confused with the series of events that had unfolded so far this day. And Oropher hated being confused. But still, he checked his anger, even as he was convinced that something more sinister was at play that was the root cause for how the day had commenced.

"This council is hence forth cancelled indefinitely. There will be no further meeting with the Noldor on this topic or on any. And on the finding of his Lordship, have the guard bring him to me at onec." Oropher gave his final verdict on the matter. The meaning of the absence of Glorfindel was not lost to Oropher, who felt neither anger nor worry. He wondered at the cause however, and he heard not the words the other counsellors spoke to him. His depthless eyes closed, and the words of the counselors paused.

"Leave." Oropher's voice was eerily too still. He only opened his eyes when the last soft footsteps of the advisors had faded into silence. But Oropher did not rise with the opening of his eyes. Instead he gripped the wood of his chair, strong fingernails dug into the delicately carved surface as his anger finally filled him.

"Treachery." he hissed aloud to no one but himself.

Alone, Oropher let his eyes fill with his ire, but still, he sat unmoving. He knew with his rationale that with Glorfindel's dismissal of the meeting, he now had every justification to send him away without receiving the message from the HIgh-King of the Noldor. But something had stirred in his heart that this would not be the course of action that he would choose in the end. And the anger boiled more within him.

Oropher let his eyes fall on the mural that was painted on the counsel wall. The painting depicted a scene of the creation of the stars and their unfolding light over the darkness of the lands. And Oropher paused more, as the tiny lights that danced through the fresco captured his attention fully, dulling the raging anger that flowed within. The fire of their lights held him frozen, captivated. He almost felt the urge to reach out and feel the fire from the lanterns, wanting so much to feel a warmth that could penetrate through to his soul. He was lost he knew, but his fate did not have to be the fate of his son. And in his self-reflection he felt little, no vows of change, no plans of action. Just that same old dull emptiness that froze his heart, stifling it until he even had to remind himself that there was still those he loved that kept him going. There were those he cared for enough to protect and shield, to spare them from the horrors he had witnessed and lived. A frozen heart was little better than a beatless heart, but that was all Oropher had been left with as a survivor of the ages.

"This will never end…." he stated aloud to the lantern stars, flickering on as they had never faced a darkness that could blanket everything. And Oropher felt weariness crash within his soul, and he remembered the words of his kin who had sallied long ago. They were free now, and he was left still hearing their haunting words that had been spoken when they had tried to beseech him to sail. But they could never understand. Wounds did not always require healing, and the pull he still felt to these lands could never be severed. He was born and he would die here, he knew, ensuring his people would not suffer the same fate that he had come to know. For he cherished their joy and their merriment on life, and had vowed long ago to keep those virtues protected, free from the eyes and meddling of others. And his thoughts meandered back to his son, whose own joy and mirth was still strong. But even as the days grew darker for them, Oropher was noticing the subtle signs of this son's waning light as that very malice had now settled into his dreams. Oropher feared for Thranduil, because he saw his own spirit start to rise, slowly replacing the good and beauty of his wife's spirit that had burned so vibrantly within Thranduil. And Oropher stared more into the flickering lights, completely lost within his thoughts, caring not to more or leave his counsel room.

\-----------

It was just before the mid-day meal when the group grew closer to the village they were headed to. What would have taken a mortal man over a day to walk, the elves were able to cover more quickly in their sprint-like walk. As they approached this one time encampment, the pungent smell of charred wood and black orcish blood still clung to the air, and shortly they saw the burned down dwellings beyond the villages gates. The area was abandoned and they stopped, noticing a new burial area piled high with rocks to mark the graves. In respect they said some elvish blessings for the dead before continuing on, heading closer to the village that their King had ordered them to seek out this day.

Later in the day, they finally reached their destination. This particular settlement was reinforced with a wall of logs and a great wooden gate that showed signs of a great assault. The men recognized the woodelves who stood before the gate now, opening it up to allow them entry. Thranduil had sentries see to delivering the supplies before he was brought to enter this village's leader's halls.

The building itself was a wooden structure with planking for floor that was in turn was covered with animal hides. Lanterns were lit, illuminating the room which had a low long table in the center of the room. The leader of these men addressed and welcomed him using his own tongue. Thranduil was fluent in the tongues of the men who dwelt around Greenwood and returned the greeting back to the leader.

"I come with supplies, and in return do request some information for King Oropher. What our king offers you, he thinks will be a sufficient payment for the information that we seek." Thranduil explained more in detail exactly what he had brought, before he seated himself on the fur covered floor by the leader. The leader of these men was burly, with a raged beard and scars around his face and body that testified of his strength and courage as a warrior. Thranduil could see that the man was fierce, but his eyes held humility, and he could sense he was a wise leader to these woodland men.

The man's face seemed to ease on hearing that the elves had brought supplies He knew that the ElvenKing to the north was a kindred soul, who acted as a guardian over the Greenwood. "What information does your King seek?" The man studied Thranduil whom he had never met before, but he recognized the authority that Thranduil possessed and deemed him as an equal.

"We come to request any information you can report on the orc activity in these lands. And also, what news does your distant kin report?"

The leader understood the universal worry that united the races together within these turbulent times. "Ever increasing are the orc attacks on the villages. What use to be isolated events, are now turning ever to constant threats and attacks. Our weaker neighbors have flooded to our village, and some have told us that other men are asked or even forced to join whomever leads these orcish forces." He noticed the shift on the elf's face, eyes seeming to flash with a knowing that was beyond his understanding. The man felt to add, "We, however, would never join sides with their lot. We remain and always will an ally of the great ElvenKing." The leader was truly grateful for the aid the elves had brought to them this day, and in his gratitude, told to Thranduil all that he knew.

"And from where do these refuges come to you?" Thranduil was curious at this alarming news.

"From the far southeast. The scattered villages there are now deserted and over-ran with orcs. Some head to other places, kingdoms, but some return back to these woodlands, this being their ancestral home. I am glad the Woodland King has not abandoned us. Please send our gratitude of eternal friendship between our people. And please," the man rose, heading to a corner where a large shelf contained a wooden box. He opened it and retrieved a small pouch from it. Carrying the pouch, he sat back down, opening it when once again his legs were tucked beneath him. A carved bone necklace was pulled from the pouch, and he handed it to Thranduil. The man continued to speak, explaining the gift he gave. "Please give this to your King, as a token of our friendship. I would also ask you and your men to please join us for our mid-day meal."

Thranduil gracefully accepted the token, taking it from the man's rough and calloused hand, as if it were a priceless gem. "You are too kind, and I thank you for the hospitality you now show us."

He followed the man from the building and summoned his sentries to join them. Following the man through the woodland village, Thranduil surveyed the buildings and the people. They regarded them with a passing curiosity, for the sight of elven-folk in these parts were nothing new to the woodmen. He continued to follow an arm's length behind the leader, until he was led to a large structure, situated not too far from the leader's halls. Just like the other building's scattered in this woodland village, it too was made of logs and thatched with dried earth and twigs and grasses.

They entered in, and Thranduil's eyes quickly adjusted to the open room that was lit with fire; fire lanterns were affixed on the walls, fire burned above in cauldrons, and a great fire-pit burned in the center. Crude low sitting wooden tables were placed around the burning fire. The leader gestured for Thranduil to take his seat and he did, easing his frame down on the fur covered floor. These woodman still used the low tables, and took their meals sitting on the ground. Thranduil watched with amused eyes as his fellow elves, who were much taller than the men, gracefully tried to sit properly on the fur covered ground.

Lunch this day was a mushroom stew, and although the elves were pleased with the meatless offering, they still found the stew to be lacking. Their subtle mannerisms of displeasure were lost to the woodmen however, who ate on around them.

Thranduil listened more to the leader speak of the good they still found despite the hard times that had found them. The life of turmoil and strife was all they had ever known, but they still told the tales of a time when the lands had peace, and clung still to those fables from their ancestors. He rejoiced at the telling of their preparations for an upcoming feast. Despite the increased attacks by orcs in their lands, they would still rejoice and find good in their lives. Thranduil listened as the man explained that his son had just been born, and the celebration of life would continue, despite the death and chaos around them.

"And you?" The man suddenly turned his thoughts now on his elvish visitor, and Thranduil wondered what specifically he was inquiring on. "Have you been blessed with your own son yet?"

Thranduil shook his head no, but didn't state more, and the man seemed surprised a little with his response.

"Are you telling me you're not yet bound?" And the man's eyes swirled with confusion, not fully understanding how this could be. The strange ways of the elves were beyond his comprehension.

"No, I have not found that one yet."

And Thranduil thought those man's words over, listening little to his current words of pursuing wives and love. How fleeting were their lives, which drove these men to action. And he, who was wrought within immortality, simply lingered on with the indulges of his own whims. Nothing came to him that was ever lasting or ever yearning, forcing him to be still. 'But still....' He lowered his eyes, as he finally allowed those memories to surface back into his heart. There had been one, once who had caused his heart to pause, but she was ever lost to him now. For there was a time that he thought he could have pledged his heart to another. But the time was never right, and then they had drifted away, lost within the turmoil of the years in which they lived. He had heard not where she had drifted to, and their connection was now severed. It was easier for him to dull that longing he harbored still, to lay within the arms of others.

Thranduil did not have the same urgency these men faced, for his dance could span the ages. The need to procure the future of their traditions drove these men to action. For love to them was simply not a game, not a dance, but was instead a need for the continuity of their kind. And Thranduil wondered if they took one or many lovers. But he didn't care to ask, instead he mulled some more on what it was that he thought he wanted. He knew what he desired, but desire alone could not settle his spirit. Desire, he knew could turn ever to something far more dangerous, the beginning of lust. And lust usually could cause ruin, the weakening of one's own will. And Thranduil was not weak, despite what his father might think.

The words of the man now pulled Thranduil out from his thoughts, and with gentle eyes, he listened now, smiling a little. "I would like to give a blessing to your son." Thranduil wasn't sure why he spoke the words he did, except that he was moved by the man's ability to find his own light despite the harsh world in which he lived in. "A blessing from his woodland neighbors for him to grow strong and true as a guardian to his people."

The man took in the words, and wiped his lunch from his beard before he nodded. "I will accept that blessing from our northern neighbors, and I know my wife will as well." The man suddenly rose, signifying that the meal was over.

Thranduil went to his guards, requesting that they pack and leave now. He promised to catch up with them soon, for he didn't' anticipate the blessing taking long, and saw no reason to make them stand around waiting on his behalf. Reluctantly, but knowing they needed to follow their prince's orders, they departed northward, back to Oropher's halls far in the north.

The man watched them pack but for a moment, before he motioned for Thranduil to follow. "My wife will be pleased with your words of blessing, for not just two new moons ago, our nephew was taken from us. He had seen only three new moons, but what a good three moons it was with him."

Thranduil regarded the tinge of loss in the word's, understanding just how biter it felt to have own kin fall. But this man's sadness was even beyond what Thranduil had felt when his family had died, for he knew to where their faes had traveled. Through the grief of his loss, he could find solace in that knowing. But the tones of the man's words expressed something else, something for which Thranduil hoped he would never come to know or understand. The man's grief penetrated to Thranduil's soul. Their fleeting lives intrigued him, and he heard between the words the man spoke of the cold of death, dark and everlasting. An unknown fate they sometimes feared, and Thranduil had to fight his own mind, forcing it to keep his own dreams of death from surfacing.

They entered the man's home, and Thranduil noted the rounded structure made of wood. The floor and walls were lined with animal hides, and the overwhelming smells of the pelts engulfed Thranduil's senses. The man led him on to a partition in the room, where there the man's wife sat next to a cradle. She rose when they entered and Thranduil noted her face was weary, and she wore an amber pendant tied around her neck with a leather cord. She looked at Thranduil and listened to her husband explain the blessing that he would give. She smiled, nodding, pleased at the offering.

Thranduil looked down at the sleeping baby, who looked so small. He could tell the child was healthy, but still, he could not get over just how tiny the baby was. He looked to the parents, and softly stated, "First I will say the blessing in the words of my own tongue, and then I will say them in yours."

The blessing was said and Thranduil made his valedictions to the woodland group of men. The leader joined him in his walk through the town and to the outer gate, and had turned to leave. But Thranduil's alarming, "Wait!" turned the man back to his side.

A labored and heavy sound came out from the distance within the forest, and as the sound drew nearer, the leader himself looked out from the gate, seeing what approached. Soon his voice commanded, "Open the gate. Let him enter!"

And the gate was opened, revealing a haggard man who entered into the town. The man was not hurt, but was laden with weariness. He said very little, but asked for some water and he seated himself on the fur covered floor after he had been invited into the meeting hall. The town's leader and Thranduil seated themselves by the man, so drawn by his strange brooding.

The man gulped down the water and started to explain that he had traveled far from the norths of Gondor. Thranduil and the leader heard his words that spoke of a rolling sea that had covered the land, wider than the eyes could grasp, marching out to the very heart of Gondor. The earth had shaken under the might of their numbers and their thunderous roar drowned out anything else as they marched.

The man continued. "It seems that our enemy would see to the annihilation of mankind and I know not if we can overcome it. I have seen much in my life, and although I have felt fear, this sight of what marches now, stilled my heart to silence. My words could little ever describe the horror I had seen that day." And the man bowed his head, and cared not to stop his tears. It was evident to Thranduil that the man had lost all hope. Thranduil kept his silence, as he took in the words and thought again of the dreams that haunted him.

"How did you come to us?" The leader asked, curious as to why he stumbled lost within the forest, and not on some easier path.

"I was with a group of messengers to spread the news, and I became lost. I remembered that good men dwell in these parts, so I entered into Greenwood the Great, beseeching the protection of the people here. I fear the road alone, for the perils are more than not, and I am ill equipped to face them on my own."

"You will find shelter here, for you are amongst friends." The leader looked to Thranduil, whose eyes were unreadable, his ageless face was an alabaster statue, inert, enigmatic, and the leader wondered if he had already suspected what the messenger had just told them. And even as the man was brought some stew and he hungrily ate it down, still Thranduil sat in contemplation.

"We will double our guard and patrols." The leader stated, not use to and not liking the silence that Thranduil only gave him. And when his words had broken the silence, Thranduil finally rose and simply stated.

"The hour grows late, and I must go now."

  
\------------------

Just as Galion had stated, the dark tunnel that Glorfindel had ran through descended up some spiraling stairs. Up and up he had climbed, dizzying almost in the tight wind he made as he ascended higher. He opened the door and now stood high atop a tree branch, deep within the Greenwood whose bright leaves shone under the rays of Anor. And Glorfindel looked back behind him, and his eyes grew wide at seeing that the door had completely disappeared under the bark of the tree. Not even dwarven doors were as deceptive as this one had been, he thought. Glorfindel felt a little awestruck at being alone in the expansive forest, but the trees were ever fair and grand as the great natural pillars that held the soaring canopy above him.

He moved with a light foot, climbing down the tree. Once on the forest floor, he paused with caution, moving his eyes around his surroundings. Although he wanted nothing more than to run through the forest in his search for Thranduil, Glorfindel knew caution was essential now. For the Greenwood seemed to be made of watchfulness; the leaves were her eyes, the wind her whisper, the branches her reach, and the mossy ground her memories. And now that he found himself at the mercy of the forest, the very essence of the Greenwood was strangely void, and absent to him. The trees did not whisper, and his mind was left with blankness. His heart feel no tugs as to which way to head into the south of these lands, for the Greenwood was wide as it was dense. He knew just how easily he could become lost within its confines. There was no path for him to follow, but Glorfindel was grateful for that. Being away from the path was better for there was less chance he could be seen. The need to move unseen was essential.

"Failure."

The word shuddered through his very soul, and that ever familiar disenchantment from the evil that grew around them caused him to kneel and take pause.

Elves. He saw a small group of five guards walking in the distance, far enough away that he doubted they could sense him. But he stopped his breath when he saw one pause, and turned his head in his direction. The wood-elf scanned the area, but he stayed still in his spot, not moving, acute eyes however moving back and forth over the forest. In what seemed an eternity to Glorfindel, the guard continued on quickly so he could catch up with the other wood-elves. Although the guards had left, Glorfindel still remained crouched, letting his own eyes scan the Greenwood.

He couldn't be careless here, and although he had his sword, the perils of the wilds of Greenwood needed to be respected. He remembered the reports of orc activity here and then his dream flashed again. Glorfindel knew it was time to walk again now, and he moved as gentle as a breeze across the forest, barely ruffling the leaves or disturbing the under brush. His step was light and he left little trail.

Glorfindel knew his presence would be missed, and Oropher would be sending out his scouts to hunt him down, knowing that the thought of him wondering the forest without his permission would drive the King to nothing but anger. The guards would not hear him out, and would only drag him back to those halls. And the forest now told him, do not let this come to pass. But then again, with the disregard that the Greenwood King had paid him, perhaps he simply cared not to drag him back to his halls. Glorfindel cared not to muse on Oropher, instead he wanted now to focus his attention with finding the way to stop the vision from happening.

\------

Thranduil had an uneasy feeling as he walked back to this home. The late afternoon sun was already seeming to wane behind dark clouds that cast the forest in deep shadows. The songs of the trees were absent, eerily so and Thranduil frowned as he paused, debating which path to his home he wished to take now. Turning his gaze to the east, he thought of a different way he could take, and decided to use that path to head back home.

Although he had moved with hast, the path he had to travel was ever still far as it was long. Even with his pace that was quick and light of foot, the trail seemed to only just grow longer, his home as distant it seemed as the hidden sun. Thranduil knew he would not reach his home before the night would consume the forest, but he kept his concern subdued within the crevices of his mind. The shadows were more than many, obscuring the path, and the Greenwood seemed uneasy to him. The forest was just too still and too silent. Not even the breeze could muster enough strength to rock the leaves, and he noted the absence of the song birds within the towering trees above him. The Greenwood's voice was silent, as if the forest listened for something that was not yet known to him. These signs put him on alert more and he grabbed an arrow, nocking it into his bow. He kept his bow ready and moved as lightly as he could through the forest, as he pressed ever northward.

Thranduil stopped now, straining his eyes and moving his head to hear for whatever had made the forest so still. But no sounds come to him and he allowed himself to relax. He continued on, still alert but less tense now, despite the forest, whose mood seemed not to lighten. Even as he walked, the worry of the man's words could not be dispelled from Thranduil's heart or mind. Sauron's boldness knew no ends, and Thranduil feared that the Greenwood would too fall under attack.  
Oropher needed to hear the fear in the man's voice and let the horror of what he had witnessed burn into his soul. The Noldor were right. No longer could they sit around and wait, for the the days of wait were over.

The breeze now stronger, blew the scents of foul dangers, but they were faint on the wings of the wind. But Thranduil did not heed the wind's warning, thinking still of the dreadful scene the man had painted for him within the horrors of his words. While he walked, even quicker now, he wondered of the guard he had sent on, if they had ran into any trouble. If they hadn't, he knew they would be little more than halfway to their capital. And he was still hours behind, he thought as he quickened more his pace, ducking under vines and leaping over logs. This path was far more remote and wild in its growth, and he knew this area a little, last passing in this section of the forest a hundred years ago. The trees were grey and tall, very much different from the ones that grew in the north where his father now made their home.

And these trees told him now "Be cautious". The vines grabbed at his ankles, the briers tore into his calves, branches tugged at his face, reaching for him. "Caution." The forest breathed, and a small woodland stream poured out a warning, "They approach." The water trickled its voice over the rocks, lapping against the banks he stood by. Above the birds called, sounding an alarm, and Thranduil watched their shadows fall long across the stream, their silhouettes stretching and distorting over the waters.

Knowing not to ignore the Greenwood, Thranduil climbed high into a tree and his far seeing eyes could make out a host of something sinister that moved through the forest, heading in his direction. A sound of the breaking undergrowth and the grunts of the orcs froze him. There was no place to hide, no escape. Their numbers were many and Thranduil let his arrows fly as they drew ever nearer. He could attack in this tree, but he knew he could not stay, as a sitting target stood little chance for survival against the poisonous orcish arrows that would soon fly his way.

As quickly as he could, he hurried down the tree, darting away to put some distance from himself and the orc host. He turned and fired more arrows, unleashing his skill with deadly accuracy. A cry was elicited from his mouth when one of their foul arrows struck his thigh, but he pulled it out while stumbling back. The pain was mighty, coursing through his body like a violent jolt of lightning. But he didn't have time to focus on the wound for the orc host was on him now.

He was trapped he knew. To his back was a tall knoll that stood higher than he could jump or climb safely with the orc host at his back. He would have to fight the orcs down in this ravine. Thranduil continued to shoot, counting over twenty of the foul creatures he could see who now were coming faster and closer to him.

Thranduil knew he was skilled, but he was not a warrior, and he knew this would be a test, especially since he was little equipped for such a battle. He had no sword, but he did have his daggers. They were a deadly pair that had used since his days in Doriath, a gift from King Thingol himself.

Thranduil braced himself, ready for the onslaught of orcs that were making their way at him. A large orc rushed at him, letting out an ear shattering roar while it widely swung his sword at Thranduil aiming for his head. A mistake with the beast's impatience allowed Thranduil to take advantage, ducking under the swing and slashing his dagger deep into the orc's vital artery in its grotesque leg. The orc fell in its pain, and Thranduil knew it would soon bleed out. He kicked the wailing beast away back onto two other orcs who collapsed into the thick vines and weeds that pulled and kept them down. Thranduil had little time to watch the forest assist him with the battle, since another orc lunged at him, followed closely by two more. In a move that surprised the orcs, he jumped into the air, daggers and legs slicing and kicking, bringing the foes down. He landed with a noticeable grimace, pain shooting up his leg and radiating down into his toes. He closed his eyes but for a second, before he dashed out of the way of a forceful swing of a sword.

Although mightier in number, orcs were a challenge most elves could best, and Thranduil found himself gaining hope that he would survive their attack, even despite the wound to his leg. He rushed at the orcs who had by now righted themselves back up, and he quickly plunged his daggers into their veins, pulling them out quickly while black blood spluttered from the gapping wounds. And more orcs came and Thranduil suddenly began to wonder about his chances. The foul orc host seemed to multiply before him but he noted to remain calm, holding his ground and moving with more fluidity, stealth and quickness than the impatient orcs who assaulted him.

A change in the wind seemed to be the turning point of the fight. A forceful blow to his chest knocked Thranduil from his feet, and in his surprise he fell down back onto the ground, landing on his backside. Before he could raise his arm to fight back, a crushing foot stamped onto his hand, shooting pain through his digits and up into his arm, forcing his dagger to drop to the forest floor. His other hand was free and he plunged that dagger into the orc's leg. Before he could pull his dagger out, another orc had cut into his arm, and he cried out, recoiling his arm back close to him in pain. The other orc mocked him with his sadistic laugh, pulling the dagger out, and tossing it just beyond his reach.

"Scum of an elf!"

The orc stated as he dug his nails into Thranduil's scalp, pulling him up as the blood tricked down. The orc hissed at him more, while he moved his powerful arm to Thranduil's neck. He squeezed it hard, cutting his airway off, choking him before he forced Thranduil to his knees. Emerald eyes regarded the orc who was flanked by ten others, all surrounding him in a sinister circle. Thranduil's back was to the hill above and he knew he could not escape or fight his way out of this. He kept his eyes open, even as he felt the tugging orcish claws in his hair; nails digging deep into his skull, causing rivers of blood to trickle down his temple. The orc continued its death grip on him, and Thranduil struggled for air, moving his hands up to his neck, trying to pull those grotesque hands off. But he was stopped, when he felt a forceful blow to his back that would have broken the bones of a mortal man. Thranduil let out a silent scream, as he fell to the forest floor, gasping into the leaves and grass that he buried his face into.

'Can not stay down.' Was the only thing that went through his mind. He tried lifting his frame, pushing through the pain that cried throughout his body for him to stay down. But he needed to stand, he needed to show them that he was not beaten yet. Despite the force of his will, the orcs just beat him down again in what felt like a circle of a thousand clubs and fists and all the hate they had for elf -kind. Thranduil could taste his blood in his mouth, and he heaved through the agony that tore through his core. But still he stood, refusing to stay down.

"This one 'as spirit." One of the orcs laughed. "Let's break 'em 'fore we kill 'em." And before Thranduil could attempt to fight them off, they descended on him, binding his hands behind his back.

"Back on your knees." An orc pounded his gauntlet covered fist into Thranduil's stomach. Thranduil buckled forward a little as the force was crushing. But when Thranduil continued to hold his ground with a look a defiance, the orc brought that same fist across his face. A flash of white and the bursting of stars overwhelmed his eyes, and Thranduil swayed as the sensations turned to a burning red welt that covered the left of his face. But still he kept standing, although he staggered more now. The orc took his club and brought it crashing into his legs.

"Down I said!" The orc roared his words.

A pain so violent and crushing moved through Thranduil who finally fell to his knees. His head pounded and he looked at the orcs as if in a daze. Their faces sneered and their eyes glared down at him, mocking, jeering, odious. A large orc stepped forward, grabbing his face, forcing his eyes to look into his own. Claws as sharp as knives dug into his delicate skin, and Thranduil could do no other but to look at the orc. A rolling laughter filled his ears, and then the orc released him. But even with the pulsating pains that rolled through his core, Thranduil used all his will to keep his head up. The feeble defiance however, only amused the orcs more, who stood around him, scoffing down at him.

"You'll suffer elf, and we'll 'ave our fun in that."

And even though the pain had almost pulled him under, Thranduil let a laugh roll out, doing what he could to stay defiant to the end, showing them that elf-kind could not be so easily broken.

"He laughs at you." Another orc yelled, "And I would too, with the way your blows land. Allow me, elf, to show you what real pain is."

And Thranduil closed his eyes, as he felt the orcs' armored boot dig into his flesh, ripping his clothes and flesh alike in an agonizing path down his side. That same armored boot, kicked him back onto the ground. His back, his sides, his legs felt the blows of pure abhorrence rain down on him. A thousand flashes of different types of pains shot throughout his body, white and red, hot and cold, he felt them all at once, and then slowly, one by one, until only the empty pain of dread had filled his entire consciousness. And for the first time in this long fight, Thranduil didn't want to stand or rise. But that did little to deter the orcs, who still had other plans.

"You call that torture!" Another orc hissed. "I've seen women hit harder than that."

He grabbed Thranduil violently by the scalp, pulling him to his knees once more. Silver strands ripped out in the orcs claws, and despite his want to keep his silence, Thranduil couldn't help but cry out the pain he felt. But soon he held his tongue, bitting his teeth into the bottom of his lip, tasting again his own blood within his mouth.

"Look at my face, elf scum!"

His words were wrought in wrath, his abhorrence for the Eldar gleamed within his dark black eyes, and then he spit into Thranduil's face.

"Know that our terror will rain down on your people. And every man, woman and child will see our faces, for our master grows hungry, and we will have his will be done."

And with these words Thranduil's eyes suddenly went dark, and the orc roared in his laughter.

And Thranduil let the rancor of the orc's venom seep into his mind, mirroring the poison from the arrow that coursed throughout his body. He closed his eyes, as he knew the orc's words would come to pass.

There would be weeping. The bitter tears of the Greenwood would fall like the decayed leaves within the lifeless forest. Thousands of eyes would see their last sunrise, their lips would sing no more, silenced instead within the choking grip of an eternal demise. Tears would dry into an effete void, hallow as the breaking of the world. For the road to victory had to pass through valley of death.

The hallow eyes, the wordless sounds, the rain of blood all oscillated from his dream with that of the present. He saw the monsters of his dreams morph with the orcs around him, his reality lost to the dread of his soul. The words from the man and from the orc continued to undulate through Thranduil, abating even the agonizing hurt that coursed through him, over and over. And Thranduil would not open his eyes, accepting the fate that held him at its mercy now.

The orc seemed to see the subtle shift of a spirit breaking, for he stopped his fist, ending his blows. He shoved Thranduil back onto the forest floor.

"Kill him!"

The orc commanded, smirking at the still elf, whose eyes seemed to stare beyond the Greenwood forest, far into another dominion where the orc could not reach him.


	7. What My Mistake Was....part 2

Glorfindel had been walking through the forest for what seemed like all day, and in his walk he had found nothing that was like the images he had seen within his dream. There had been no signs of the orc host, no signs of Thranduil, and he had felt nothing at all from the forest. No clues, no feelings, not even that horrid dream crossed his mind or tugged in his heart with an added clarity to the situation that he now found himself in. In fact, the more he walked the more he realized that he was simply going in circles.

The forest and its vast trees seemed to wrap around him. The trees obscured any paths. They blocked the sun. The oppressive coppice seemed to grow thicker, tugging at his boots, trying to force him to slow in his movement. Glorfindel thought he was heading one way, only to end up where he had walked not too recently before. He was going in circles which was beyond his belief. He was of elven-kind. Elves did not become lost in the forest easily. They were able to commune with the ancient and powerful trees and could tread quickly and lightly in the most direct and quickest paths. And yet the day had presented to him its hours in these maddening circles that he was trapped within.

Something was simply amiss, his thoughts now concluded. The forest was playing tricks on him. And Glorfindel began to frown with the doubt that was escalating within his mind. The uncertainties and confusions were pulling more at his heart. Lost within this new doubt, and with the forest's frustrations, Glorfindel wondered if he had somehow been tricked to wander around the Greenwood, deceived to forfeit this meeting that he so desired with Oropher. He wondered if it had somehow been Oropher who had poisoned his mind with deceit, and had somehow turned this very forest against him.

His frown deepened, his brows furrowed, and Glorfindel had decided to turn to where he thought would lead him back to Oropher's citadel. Glorfindel was certain now of the deceit he had been fed. What else would have caused him to stumble around the forest without being able to grasp a clear bearing on what was east or west, north or south? Somehow Oropher had orchestrated this all, and it all made sense to him now.

Galion's assistance. How strange it should have seemed to him. Galion seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do. This should have struck Glorfindel as curious, but he had been blind. And in his blindness he had fallen for the deceit that the Greenwood's king had fed to him. Oropher was cruel, and Glorfindel was sick of these games. He was weary of all the deceit. This request that he had been sent on to deliver to the insufferable Oropher was doomed to fail, and he was starting to realize that it never stood a chance.

Glorfindel could feel his heart sink as his mind now wondered if he was too quick to despair. But the more he thought, the more it seemed clearer to him now. It was time to leave, he concluded. He would never be able to break through to Oropher, and he no more wanted to be used as a game for the Greenwood's King. It was finally time to return to his own home and away from this land of enchantment, deception, and of madness.

Despite his dour mood, he was still able to laugh a little, musing now that finally he and Oropher agreed on something. Glorfindel felt as his sadness now pushed his furry away, leading his heart to sting with a longing for Thranduil. It was not often that Glorfindel did not get to taste the fruits of a forbidden flower, especially for one that offered himself so willingly. But he knew with Oropher's iron will, and this doomed alliance that this would have to be one of those times that he would not be able to indulge. Maybe some other time, under different and better circumstances if their paths should ever cross again would he get to know Thranduil better. But perhaps it was with his interest in Thranduil that he had sealed the alliance's doom, he mused.

Why had Gil-Galad insisted that it was he who had to come to this wretched forest? Why had it not been somebody else who would have been better focused as Oropher had stated? Oropher had recognized his weakness concerning Thranduil. He had seen just how much he desired him, and how he had also caused that same want to rise within Thranduil. Somehow with that very knowing, Oropher had cast this deception into his mind that now found him lost and walking in circles outside of Oropher's realm within the expansive Greenwood forest.

Glorfindel seemed to know now that it had not been the Greenwood that had called to him through his dreams. The forest no longer was a soothing beautiful woodland, but had become instead a frightful deceiver, entrapping him within its eerie silence and fallacious calm. The unease, the dire foreboding, the tugs that had tortured his soul and his mind this morning were absent. There was simply nothing in its place. And Glorfindel doubted. It was as if he had once again lost another game, much like that deceitful chess game he had lost to Thranduil. Glorfindel sighed aloud, knowing that he had been nothing more than a pawn in Oropher's hands this day.

Still wrapped within his dubiety, Glorfindel paused and looked around, trying to decide which way to turn to to make his way back. He had only taken two steps when he was forced to pause, hearing the forest's voices scream to him. The forest, once silent and calm, now cried out with the wind, it cried with the leaves, it cried with the movements of the fowls and the beasts.

"Go now."

The forest's winds blew up the leaves around him, and Glorfindel was snapped to attention. He watched the debris blow now towards a path behind him that he had not noticed before. Before him in his wonderment, the forest had seemed to change.

"Do not tarry."

He heard, as he was compelled to follow the path that had suddenly opened up to him as if drawn by an invisible hand. His heart froze, and his doubt and trepidation were instantly erased. He ran.

'No time to think or reflect, just act.' He thought as his heart wrenched with a sting that was worse than a dagger's stab. And so Glorfindel ran with a speed that he had never had to call on before, as he listened to the forest lead him further on down this strange and winding path.

\--------

After the leader of the orcs had given his commands, Thranduil had let the magic of the forest free him from the present world around him. He did not see the orcs circling around him with their sneers, their smirks, and their gleaming eyes filled with such hate. He did not hear their laughter, their stomping of their gruesome feet, nor the cruel words of their spite. And his mind blocked out the agony his body was screaming, the bleakness, all the vile words of a future he could not stop. And even as his eyes made out the movements of a sword being raised above him, and the sword's dull metal catching the rays of the waning sun, his eyes would just not see it. His mind refused to perceive it. The world seemed to stop. And that ever curious deceiver known as time seemed frozen, ticking out its progression in distorted fragments.

He should be fearful, fighting, struggling for his life, but he was still and docile, as if in a far off dimension where nothing could ever reach him. Not the orcs, not fear, not even the impending death that was soon to claim him. Instead, he waited with an almost calmness for the cold hand of death to touch him. He waited to feel and know the halls that claimed all the departed souls from Arda. How many souls had made the journey there before him? And now it was his time to join his ancestors. He waited for what seemed an eternity for a blow that did not come.

Instead the silence that had muted out everything around him was suddenly broken when he heard the sounds of metal clashing with other metal, and the screams of a surprised orc host who were suddenly under ambush. He heard these sounds from what seemed to be born of his almost extinguished hope. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the bitter tricks his mind now played on him with this cruel deception.

And still Thranduil waited for that death blow, but the screams kept coming. He felt that awful oppressive presence of the orcs leave his side. As he slowly returned back to the present world, his ears could pick up the sound of an elvish blade singing through the air around him. And with the recognition of that sound, Thranduil finally opened his eyes to see the wonderment of Glorfindel cutting down the orcs. His sword moved as a great force, inducing chaos, and in their anger the orcs turned their attention to the attacker, leaving Thranduil all alone.

And as he watched the scene unfold he let himself fully return to the present, back from that liminal world that he had drifted to in anticipation of his death. The pain, the carnage, the blood, this new hope all crashed within. And in this overwhelming mixture of sensations, he collapsed onto the forest floor, no longer able to support himself without the orcs holding him up. Laying on the forest floor, he still managed to watch as Glorfindel fought. In all of his glory, Thranduil had seen nothing that compared to his might in all his long years. Long strong limbs wielded a sword with a skill that was unmatched by any other. Not even Oropher could fight with the proficiency that looked as an art and a dance to his eyes. But even as he watched the fighting that he tried so hard to stay focused on, the overwhelming sensations of pain and fatigue engulfed him, trying its best to pull him under.

He lost the fight. Suddenly the Greenwood went dark to him.

\-----

Day after day of frustrations, of yearning desires, of being scorned and out of place, of seeing his friend with his head hanging down awaiting a death blow, all collided within Glorfindel. These emotions and thoughts helped fuel him in the slaughter of the orcs that had surrounded Thranduil. The orcs had been so engrossed as they stood around to watch the death that he had been able to attack with surprise. With all the skill he possessed, he cut through the orc host easily, drawing them away from the badly injured Thranduil. Quickly they fell and Glorfindel stared into the faces of the few that remained. It took him only a little effort to bring down two orcs who rushed at him. Still, just a few more remained and they all charged at him at once. With all of Glorfindel's might and skill his sword matched their blades, blocking their blows while he was able to find the window needed to cut them down. He let his frustrations and his hatred for these orcs who had hurt his friend rain down on them. His sword was ruthless, slicing through them with the vengeance he now sought on them. The ones that remained were of little match for Glorfindel, and only the leader of the orc host was his last adversary.

"You'll pay for your actions, elf!" The orc hissed. He walked onto the lifeless bodies of his fallen comrades, caring not that his gruesome boots tore into their flesh and snapped their rib bones under his weight. "It is unwise to come between an orc and his prey, and you just spoiled our fun. Now, you must die."

"You have uttered your last words, orc." Glorfindel smirked back to him, and he blocked the orc's powerful blow with a stealth and speed the orc had not anticipated. Glorfindel knew to fight with his emotions calm and checked, for this orc was larger than the others he had killed, and was far more powerful and skilled.

The orc again lunged his assault at Glorfindel, relentlessly swinging his sword with all of his force. Sure the orc was strong, but he was of little match to him, and he easily evaded and maneuvered around the death swings. If not for the injured Thranduil, Glorfindel would have taken his time with this orc, thoroughly enjoying the toying with his own prey before the kill. But he needed to be quick, knowing that Thranduil was hurting and needed his aide. In a swift move that the orc did not anticipate, he was able to land the death blow to the creature, who instantly fell silent onto the forest floor.

Glorfindel looked around one more time just to make sure the threat was over. There were no more orcs standing, and the forest seemed serene again. Satisfied that the danger was at last over, he took in the sight of Thranduil. Thranduil was crumpled on the forest floor. He was covered in blood, and Glorfindel supported him into a sitting position. He held his breath as he searched for signs of life, and when Thranduil let his eyes flutter open and focus on him, Glorfindel let his relief wash over him. He smiled at seeing that he lived, and gently moved back the blood stained hair from Thranduil's face.

"Thank the Valar." He sighed, while he he grabbed one of his own daggers, and cut the binds from the other's hands. The horror of his dream had not come to pass, or at least not yet. An uneasy worry was settling into Glorfindel's heart as he let his eyes examine the extent of the damage that he could see. It was obvious that Thranduil's injuries were numerous. Blood covered him almost everywhere, his face was swollen, his flesh was bruised and cut, and his clothes were torn and bloodstained from the injuries hidden beneath them. But, still, Thranduil was alive with eyes open, staring at him in wonderment.

Glorfindel reached for a pouch that was buckled on his belt, and with his free hand he retrieved a small flask of medicinal miruvor that Elrond had insisted he take with him. Glorfindel knew the strengthening qualities that the drink contained, and he helped Thranduil drink some of it.

"How did you know to find me?" Thranduil's voice was soft and cracked, heaving through the abuse the orcs had put him through. His eyes were pained, showing every single sting and ache his body felt, yet the deep green orbs still revealed his deep gratitude and wonderment. Glorfindel the might warrior had come to him with all his glory, saving him from what would have been his death. "How did you know my life was to end?"

"Be still now, do not let your mind worry about such details." Glorfindel's voice was soft, as he tried to look Thranduil over, making sure that his life was not in immediate danger with the extent of his injuries. He wondered what he could do to ease the pain that he saw reverberating through Thranduil's core. He wasn't sure just how to proceeded with the healing and the tending of the wounds, and in his panic, his worry was getting the best of him. His head was spinning, and the air around them was poignant with the stench of orcish blood. Glorfindel tried not to frown, but the overwhelming stench of the blood was making him feel dizzy. The forest floor was saturated with it. It covered Thranduil. It covered him.

"No, I need to know."

The words were now no softer than a whisper, but Thranduil's determined eyes bore into Glorfindel. He was still knelt beside the wounded Thranduil, brushing his long silver-hair from his eyes. 'So stubborn.' He thought, but he grew less panicked now. His feelings led him to feel protective over the one for whom the forest had once again cast into his dreams.

"Greenwood would see to your well being, for I dreamt this whole event last night. Surely as you are here now, and the orcs lay dead, I saw you at this spot, with the knoll behind you, the trees heavy with vines."

He felt it was best to leave out that he had dreamt of Thranduil's death. But he knew that deep within Thranduil, who was teetering between awareness and unconscious, that the other knew the full extent of the dream. And Thranduil's words that he still somehow managed to force out confirmed that very knowing.

"You saw my death and hence you found me, my friend."

Glorfindel's presence seemed to will Thranduil to keep from giving into the pulls of his injuries. He remained in a seated position, feeling some of his strength return from the miruvor He kept his eyes open, regarding Glorfindel, recalling just how glorious he had been when he fought. His beauty, skill and strength were otherworldly as if he were more than flesh and blood, but instead a higher being.

'So beautiful…' he reached his finger up to Glorfindel's hair, brushing it against the soft of his locks. Thranduil let a smile cross his face, even with the blood still pooling at his temple, and the swelling sting on his cheek. But then he suddenly remembered that Oropher and Glorfindel were suppose to meet this day, and his smile vanished as quickly at it began.

"What of your meeting with my father?" Thranduil asked Glorfindel, who was now working on making strips of cloth that he would use to wrap the bleeding wounds.

A laugh escaped Glorfindel's lips, as he thought about just how stubborn Thranduil was. Thranduil seemed to care more for a meeting that had not happened, instead of on his own serious and numerous injuries.

"I will answer that in time, but first, I need to bind your wounds. The bleeding must be stopped now." He worked quickly as he crudely wrapped the cuts, ensuring they were tight enough to apply the needed pressure to stop the loss of precious blood. If his actions pained Thranduil, he did his best to keep that knowledge from Glorfindel. However, the closing of his emerald eyes told Glorfindel everything that Thranduil tried to hide.

Glorfindel was surprised with just how numerous the injuries were, and he couldn't help but frown as he thought about just what the orcs had put Thranduil through. Thranduil did not look good, but he was awake and responding to his words.

'Yes'. Glorfindel thought. 'Keep Thranduil engaged in conversation until he could get him to a more secure location.' With his new plan of action, Glorfindel finally answered his worried question.

"In my worry, I did not attend the meeting. Instead, when I had found out that you had left the capitol, I too left thinking only of you." Glorfindel continued to bind the wounds, trying his best to not to hurt Thranduil.

"I am sure Oropher is angry at me and I might have just lost the one chance I had to plead the case for alliance." Glorfindel's eyes remained with joy even as he spoke his fears aloud. He let his face smile on for Thranduil's sake, even as he hastily wrapped the torso wound that peered through the torn and bloodied tunic that Thranduil wore. It looked horrible and caused Glorfindel unease, but he tried his best not to let his worry show.

"I would not have my dream come to pass. You simply are someone that I would not want to loose. And I know Arda would be much less without you in it." He decided to add a more positive statement, and he looked down to see that Thranduil smiled at hearing this, even with the pain he was in.

"If this alliance is meant to be, the Valar will see that it is done. I will not fret about it anymore." Glorfindel finished his words, and he continued to look Thranduil over for more wounds, ready to wrap them on their discovery. He had finally decided to take to heart the words Thranduil had been telling him all along regarding his actions towards this alliance.

Thranduil took the words in, and motioned for Glorfindel to stop with the tending to his wounds. Sure the pain was beyond what he had felt before, and threatened to pull him ever into a world of enveloping dark sleep. But he was strong, he would show Glorfindel just how strong he was.

"I am fine, Glorfindel. There is no need for this." He hissed a little, forcing himself to stand to emphasize that he had not been beaten. He moved away from the lifeless orcs, not wanting to be around the carnage anymore. The overwhelming stench of their blood was dizzying. He needed to escape from this area now. He wanted to forget this, to erase forever their awful words that still spun through his mind. He desperately needed to breath the forest air that was not corrupted with the stench of the black orc blood.

Glorfindel watched his injured friend stagger away, and he grabbed Thranduil's scattered daggers that were laying near the area of battle. He moved by his side, swiftly, ready to support Thranduil just incase he were to fall with the weight of his injuries. Thranduil seemed to regard him with a slight frown on his face, and Glorfindel wasn't sure if it were the pain or the worried look he was giving Thranduil that caused his expression.

"I am sure Oropher is angered." Thranduil pushed the words out, forcing Glorfindel to focus on anything but the frailty he exhibited now. This was not how he wanted to present himself to the fabled Glorfindel whom he thought was perfection personified.

"However," he paused, breathing through a sharp pain that almost pulled him down to his knees. He gripped his side, curling his spine down. And Glorfindel was holding him, his concerned words were telling him to stop now, to rest. But Thranduil only shook Glorfindel's words off.

"No." Thranduil continued, intent on finishing the thoughts that went through his mind now. He needed to speak, and he need to keep on walking back to his home.

"I would imagine my safety will still his fury and in time, I am sure that he will hear your words." Thranduil tried to give Glorfindel a reassuring smile, even with his evident display of the creeping defeat from his wounds. Still, despite the sheer agony he was in, Thranduil's mind could little only wonder of the day's events: the horrible news of the latest attack from Sauron, Glorfindel's skipping of the meeting. He himself held doubt on how his father would react. He knew he had been sent away for a reason, to be separated from Glorfindel once and for all. Oropher was the master of these lands, and did not like when his will was denied.

Under the weight of those thoughts and his body's agony, Thranduil stumbled, and he knew he would not be able to walk much longer without rest. "Home is still far in the distance." Thranduil commented as he scanned the area around them. "My body is weary but I will walk as much as I can."

Glorfindel frowned. He knew the struggle that Thranduil was going through. Elves were strong and their bodies could withstand much abuse, but Thranduil was badly wounded. He needed to rest and forgo the long journey back to the citadel until he was more rested and healed.

"No, do not even begin to think that you are walking through the forest this night. Your body needs pause to rest, to heal."

"I am fine." Thranduil snapped, trying to show no weakness, and he set his eyes as hard glacial stones in emphasis of his point. His eyes reflected the very same eyes his father often used to demonstrate that his will was not be challenged. But when Thranduil saw the sincere worry and concern in Glorfindel's face, he relented, deciding that he simply did not have the fight within him any longer. He decided it was best to give into Glorfindel's assessment on how to proceed now.

"You are right, my friend. We simply should not walk through the Greenwood at night so far from our guarded borders. I do know of an area where there is a pond and one of our outpost shelters. We can pause there so I can tend my wounds, and you can also rest from your own battle exertions."

Glorfindel nodded, but he bit his tongue, deciding not to comment on the statement Thranduil had made regarding his own need for rest. He walked just behind Thranduil, who slowly led him through the forest, limping more noticeably now. His pace slowed and Glorfindel came to his side. The last few minutes of their walk saw Glorfindel fully supporting Thranduil now, who indicated that their walk would end just beyond a bend in the path. Thranduil, all but exhausted with pain, allowed the assistance, caring not to protest for he knew his pride would simply not help in this situation.

They reached the spot that was a tranquil area as far as Glorfindel could tell. Although by the time they had reached it, the night had already obscured the details to him. But just as Thranduil stated a small stone structure covered heavy in vines and moss stood near a small pond.

Glorfindel helped Thranduil into the shelter, and he let his eyes adjust to the dark of the room. Near a window was a cot that was illuminated by the beams of Ithil's light. Carefully he helped the limping Thranduil onto the cot. In the dark he did his best to scan the room some more, but the slight light made it difficult for him to discern if there were any candles or lanterns he could light. In his determination he stumbled around the structure until he bumped into a table. Glorfindel noted not to curse aloud as his hip collided with the sharp of a corner. Breathing a little in annoyance, he instead felt along the top of the table, relieved when he felt a lantern on its surface. The illumination from the lantern was enough to saturate the room with the much needed light that he needed to work in, and Glorfindel knew he could really get to work with helping Thranduil now.

"Now let us really see to your wounds, now shall we?"

Thranduil was pale, exhausted, and didn't care that Glorfindel had begun to remove his boots and leggings to better view the wounds. He was exhausted, but he willed with every fiber of his being to stay awake. Even though he was not a worrier like Glorfindel was, he would show him just how strong he was.

Glorfindel seemed not to notice Thranduil's internal battle, and he let his eyes scan the bruises, the welts, and the cuts that covered his body. A tear in his flesh on the upper thigh showed that an arrow had pierced him, and Glorfindel frowned. Orc arrows often carried poison, but not all did. Glorfindel was not too sure which type of arrow had pierced Thranduil without the arrow-head around.

He then pulled the ripped and blood stained tunic off of Thranduil. His frowned deepened at what he saw. The cut he had wrapped on Thranduil's arm was soaked in blood, but the cut to his side was fairing better. Thranduil was covered in cuts and scrapes and torn flesh from head to toe. The sight of this made Glorfindel all the more determined to help him. Again he pulled his flask and bade Thranduil to drink some more, and he smiled as Thranduil sipped the cool liquid down.

"Let's get you cleaned up then." Glorfindel capped the flask once Thranduil had finished and tucked it back into his belt. He noted to keep his voice soft, knowing that calmness was needed in this situation. He headed outside to the pond where he took what was left of his cloak, and began to cut it into pieces which he then wetted with the pond water. The water was cool and Glorfindel knew that the water was free of any dangerous organisms which could lead to infection. The cool night wind blew across the forest, and the trees whispered to Glorfindel letting him know they would be safe for the night. WIth a lighter heart he went back to Thranduil who was trying to pull off the wrapping that was around his arm.

"Here allow me." Glorfindel offered. He unwound the crude binding he had made and he looked at the wound. It wasn't horribly deep, but he knew it needed to be cleaned properly to avoid infection. Glorfindel used the wet cloth to clean the wound. He noticed that Thranduil winced, and Glorfindel was more bothered when he did not bother to mask it. When he was satisfied that the cut was cleaned, he applied some healing ointment on it. He had packed this small tin of balm with him when he had been preparing to set out and find Thranduil. He knew this balm would help Thranduil heal much more quickly, but he also hoped that it would also deaden the pain he felt. Glorfindel was glad that Elrond had packed the powerful healing balm with him before he left, although at the time he had only rolled his eyes at his sometimes over-worrying Lord.

"You come prepared, I see." Thranduil recalled the smell of the balm that Glorfindel used now. It brought him back to his days in Lindon, where he had learned to make that powerful and almost magical healing balm with Elrond, so many years ago. He saw Glorfindel nod, letting his face turn to smile.

"Is that one of Elrond's balms?" Thranduil already knew the answer, but he asked it all the same.

"Yes, this is one of Elrond's medicines. I have no choice but to travel prepared, for you see, Lord Elrond makes sure that I take his care package before I leave his lands. He is always worried that I would have gotten into some sort of trouble with something when I am abroad." He laughed, hoping the light of his words would soothe his injured friend. He applied a generous amount on Thranduil's arm, who smiled as if he was doing it all wrong. But if he had applied far too much of the ointment, Thranduil did not say. With a dry piece of his cloak, he wrapped the wound.

"Now my friend," he looked Thranduil in the eyes. "Let us see to the other ones."

Glorfindel now looked over the gash to his side. The rigged tear to the flesh ran from his upper ribcage and down to his navel area. Glorfindel took great care with cleaning the wound, fearing infection. He applied another generous helping of the balm to the wound, while Thranduil just leaned his body against the wall, closing his eyes, seeming not to be in too much discomfort while Glorfindel tended him. Glorfindel then moved his care further down Thranduil's body. He cleaned the wounds to his legs, using the remaining balm on all the cuts and bruises that covered him from head to toe.

"Now." Glorfindel stated at the finishing of the care he had administered, "Let's get you into this." He removed his outer tunic, leaving only a light shirt for him to wear. He gently pulled his own tunic onto Thranduil, letting it cover his torso and groin area.

Thranduil regarded him through half lidded eyes, smiling at the care he gave to him. "Thank you, my friend." He whispered. "I keep finding myself indebted to you today." The long events of the day brought him weariness and an almost dizzying fatigue struck him now.

"A night off that leg will do you good. I hope your father will not worry too much when you do not return." Glorfindel added, while he let his eyes roam down Thranduil's long alabaster legs. He was sitting with just that tunic on, and although the cloth covered his undergarments, his thighs were bare, showing the rest of his legs. They were long and alabaster underneath the bruises and cuts and they were deceitfully lithe. But Glorfindel knew just how toned and strong Thranduil was. He frowned however, at the sight of the abuse that had been paid to the slender body. He watched as Thranduil moved his bare feet up onto the cot, as if the other did not seem to want to have them touching the stone floor. Glorfindel was snapped from admiring his form though when Thranduil started speaking.

"Wonder, perhaps, but worry not so much." Thranduil's response was delayed, and he looked as if in a daze at the dressings on his body, before he lifted his eyes back to Glorfindel's face. He had not seen Glorfindel admiring his form. Instead he was focusing on the relief his body was feeling as the pain that had been consuming him was slowly fading with the effects of the balm. The salve brought him relief, the pain continued to leave him, dulled by the powerful healing medicines that only Elrond could make. The powerful medicine was already healing his damaged skin and tissues, and Thranduil knew, that because of Elrond's medicinal skills, he would soon be healed.

"You should sleep now." Glorfindel stated as he began to remove his own boots. "You need to let your body rest to do the healing it needs." He added watching as Thranduil battled fatigue, his eyelids fluttering.

"Sleep my friend," Glorfindel's words fell into a lull, hoping the melodic cadence would settle the adrenaline and pull Thranduil into the slumber he needed. Indeed his words wound through the room, like a strong enchantment, pulling Thranduil down onto the cot. Slowly he lowered, silver hair spilling down around him. His long lashes finally closed over his bewitching emerald eyes.

Glorfindel watched Thranduil fall into slumber, but he continued humming, looking over his sleeping charge. He gently covered the weary Thranduil with his own cloak. His words continued on, soft and palliative, even as Thranduil was clearly sleeping.

Satisfied that Thranduil was finally deep in a healing sleep, Glorfindel stopped his song, and seated himself on a chair by the table. He listened to the night's wind blow through the trees. The forest was serene and echoed with the insects and night's owls. Glorfindel focussed and strained his hearing wondering if he could hear any news from the forest. To his relief, not a sound of distress could be heard. Still, despite their safety now, Glorfindel did not want to let his guard down, intent instead on keeping watch in this strange forest.

He leaned back into his chair, finally letting all the frustrations of the day's events fade into forgotten memories. The stress and tension seeped from his core as he let himself clear all of the doubt that had consumed him this day. He now knew that Oropher held no part in this day's event. It had to have been something more divine and Glorfindel was a little bewildered. Through his years in this new age, he had been granted dreams and knowings that he knew would come to pass, but they were sporadic and often spaced decades apart. But now the feelings came sooner to him, and Glorfindel grew alarmed. How strong was the threat of malice when the lands could do no other but cry out their warnings? Glorfindel could feel it in his core, the warning rolled across the sky. It poured down from the heavens, washing over anything that cared enough to listen. But even though the lands of the weary peoples wept, there were still those who turned a blind eye to it all. He understood it not. How one who was in a position to defend his people and their peace could remain so obstinate to the cold and hard facts.

Glorfindel sighed, even as the peaceful forest tried its best to lure him into his own rest. But Glorfindel ignored it, intent instead with the piecing together of the events of the day. He rose, and looked over the slumbering Thranduil. He looked so peaceful now in his rest. His eyes were closed in a healing sleep and Glorfindel could not make out any signs of distress from the other as he slept. But still, Glorfindel placed his hand on his sleeping friend's forehead, and whispered to him a blessing of peace and strength in his sleep, hoping his words would keep any lingering and uneasy thoughts away.

The night's gentle breezes blew again and Glorfindel felt more compelled to pause and listen to the dulcet rustling of the leaves, making their own chiming of a soothing serenade. He fought to stay awake, wanting to keep his watch over his sleeping charge. But the Greenwood had other plans, and a warm breeze blew now, scented heavy with woodland aromas and the good of the earth. They enveloped his senses, tugging at his own weariness like the earlier song he had sung to Thranduil. His strong warrior will was of little match against the enchantress that was the Greenwood forest. Its voice penetrated the air, shards of its magic swept through the canopy of the night.

In a battle of will, Glorfindel was on the loosing end against this witch of a forest. As if in a trance that was cast on him from the forest, he was seated back on the chair, and his head and arms leaned down onto the table just before he was out in his own peaceful and pleasant sleep.

\------

Oropher sat late into the night alone within his study. This night was not so unlike the other nights in which he would let himself reflect and lose himself within its beauty. Just as ever, the forest was peaceful with its early fragrant summer breezes. The fireflies lit the forest up around him in a show of whimsical light. The awakening of the nocturnal inhabitants of the Greenwood called their voices out in an enchanting symphony. But Oropher reflected on none of these things however.

Instead his thoughts kept turning over the reports from the returning guard who had ventured into the south-lands of the forest. It was with great displeasure and worry that he had heard that his only son and his only heir had foolishly stayed behind. And now that Ithil had long burned her light into the sky, Thranduil still had not returned.

He worried over the words of his guards. They had reported the days events to him, indicating what they had seen and heard. There were visible signs of the orc attacks to the woodland villages in the south, and the men who lived there lamented in the uncertainty of the growing darkness. And with Thranduil staying behind without the needed eyes and defense of the guards, Oropher knew he would find no rest this night. Instead he would loose himself within his mind. Oropher allowed himself to sigh, as he gave into and acknowledged his worry. He hoped his son would not encounter any trouble on his way back. Worry was nothing  
new to Oropher, but this familiar routine weighed more heavily on him this night with the concern for Thranduil.

This whole day had been an annoyance to Oropher. First there had been the meeting that had not occurred with Glorfindel. Although he really wasn't going to commence with the true nature of a meeting, he was still looking forward to actually purging his realm of Glorfindel once and for all, but that had not occurred as was planned. And there was the uncertainty of not knowing what delayed his son's return. Galion's actions as well caused Oropher to have unease. He had his suspicions with Galion. There was no perceivable explanation to explain how Glorfindel could have moved through his kingdom unseen. The eyes of his guards were everywhere, but not a single one of them had seen him leave his halls and move beyond their boundaries and out into the Greenwood. He was not within the citadel either. Oropher had instructed his guard search high and low around his halls and within the city, but all the reports kept informing him that Glorfindel was missing. Vanished even. And this annoyed him more than what he cared for it to.

Oropher was certain though that the mystery of it all would lead him straight to Galion. But if Galion knew anything on the matter, the other only had held his tongue this day. Oropher expected as much from the sometimes distant Galion. He had often thought about having Galion removed from his personal service with the sometimes mischief he would cause. But still, Galion had proven to be exceptionally loyal to him, brave even, and was usually a comfort to him. And tonight, even with whatever role he had played with the disappearance of Glorfindel, Oropher's thoughts moved to wanting to have Galion's presence near him. He almost yearned for Galion's calming presence, hopping it would help soothe his spinning mind.

The King of the Greenwood rose, tiring suddenly of his cell-like setting. He tugged on his outer robe with little elegance before he stepped into the hall. With a wordless stare, he summoned Galion to join him while he walked down the hall, passing corridor after corridor within his grand home. If Galion would not come to him to speak his thoughts and mind, Oropher would keep him by his side in hopes his silence would finally be broken. And Oropher let a smile cross his face, thinking just how much he would delight in finally learning the truth of what had occurred this day. Galion was quick to follow, and the two ascended through the citadel where they reached a room that was open to the forest canopy around them.

Galion was good at reading his lord-king and knew as well that Thranduil had not yet returned. He also knew just how much distress it was causing his king, whose eyes had looked at him with a certain knowing in his annoyance. Galion minded to stay inscrutable. This was a trait that he was a master of, even masking his thoughts and emotions from both Oropher and Thranduil.

He followed behind his king, knowing why Oropher climbed to this spot. He knew that his king wished to commune with the forest in his hopes that the Greenwood would enlighten him about Thranduil within its whispers this night. And when Oropher motioned for him to stand right beside him atop the forest observatory, Galion did so, assuming his usual stance by his king's side.

The two stood listening to the whispers from the trees long into the night. But all that the trees relayed back to them was the confusion of the darkening corruption of the southern reaches of the forest. Oropher knew the Dark Lord was ever pushing his vile poison into the south-lands, and he grew even more annoyed that the forest told him nothing on what he truly sought. Still he stood on, straining his hearing beyond what could be heard with his fine elven senses, desperately wanting to hear just a single clue as to what kept his son from arriving home. In his worry, Oropher cared little now about his thoughts on Glorfindel.

Galion could read the concern of his king and stifled as best he could his own feelings of worry. He didn't want his own anxiety to fuel the worry of Oropher. Galion wondered just how well he was masking his thoughts however. The day had turned out to be most confusing, and he inwardly mulled over the events. He still could make little sense of Glorfindel's strange behavior. Then there were the strange feelings that he had with the assistance that he had provided to Glorfindel. Both were baffling to Galion.

But the more Galion reflected on the day's events, the more he began to wonder if he had simply been mistaken. Maybe the pull he had felt to help Glorfindel had all been a simple misunderstanding of what he had read from the other. With this new realization of what may have actually occurred, Galion began to wonder more about Glorfindel and of Thranduil. But the more he thought, the more perplexed he became about the motives behind Glorfindel's sudden and persistent need to venture from the citadel. And what of Thranduil's missing presence from his father's city? The coincidences very much did lead one to draw such conclusions of if the two were together.

The answers that both sought came neither to them quickly nor definitively from the forest's winds. The minutes seemed to roll into hours and Ithil started sinking beyond the Greenwood Forest. Yet Oropher still stood stoic staring south into the forest as if Thranduil would soon appear. And Galion continued to watch on as well as the ever silent companion loyal to his king. Through the side of his eyes, he let himself study Oropher who stood so straight, his face very much transparent with the annoyance of not knowing.

As if Oropher could feel Galion's eyes on him, he turned slowly, locking eyes with him and simply stated. "They are together."

Oropher frowned, wondering how Glorfindel knew exactly how to find Thranduil. His anger boiled within, as he definitively concluded that it was none other than his own treacherous son who had told the invader where to find him. Thranduil had persuaded Galion to sneak Glorfindel out into the forest, and somewhere beyond his eyes, they were out there together.

Moving quickly from his statuesque vigil, Oropher suddenly bottled down the stairs and descended down to his ground floor council room like a mighty storm raining down on his halls. Galion followed quickly, having to double his steps to keep pace with his king.

"Summon my chief of guard!" Oropher fumed, wondering if a status report was ready from the sentries he had sent to locate Glorfindel. He wanted to hear that Glorfindel was still missing as a means to confirm his suspicions, and he impatiently waited for his guard to arrive. It took only a few moments before Galion returned with the ancient chief of guard at his side.

"My King." The guard approached Oropher, waiting for him to address him.

"What have you to report on the search for Lord Glorfindel?" Oropher's stare was piercing, intense and steadfast, awaiting the words he knew would come.

"He is most skilled, my king. He left neither track nor clue and evaded even our unwavering watch." The guard paused, accessing Oropher's frown and hard glacial eyes.

"And any news of Thranduil?" Oropher moved now to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of wine and goblet in his calm acceptance of the news. He motioned to Galion that his assistance was not required before pouring his own glass.

"There has been no sign yet of your son's return. Our southern sentries have also not reported anything on the two." The guard fell silent while he studied Oropher, who held onto his goblet, his face was unreadable, showing neither displeasure or intrigue, worry or concern, just the ageless mask of the first-born.

Oropher seated himself on a chair within the council room. He sat stoic, stating nothing with nothing with words nor with body. He neither dismissed his guard nor drank from his wine cup. Not even his eyes could show his thoughts. Time seemed to stand still, but Oropher was even stiller. And the pause of his words and movements froze everyone in the room along with him.

"Return to your duties." Oropher's lone command echoed in the room, finally piercing the silence that had weighed them all down. The chief of the guard nodded respectfully and left his king, following Oropher's command.

Galion remained after the guard had departed, mirroring the same unwavering vigil that Oropher kept. The king's deep green eyes were locked on a south window searching for answers that just would not come. Despite Oropher's indifferent approach towards Thranduil, Galion knew the one thing that was dearest to Oropher's heart was his only son. The long years of immortal life had claimed all others that had been dear to him. Thranduil was the only family that Oropher had left. His knowledge of Oropher's life was like a sketch to Galion, incomplete but still providing him enough details to piece together what exactly had happened that had molded the king as he knew him.

Thranduil hadn't been the only child that his king had loved, but his daughter had long ago been lost to him. The two had been close, but when Oropher had decided to move to the east, she had decided to stay with the Noldor in Lindon. Oropher had not approved of her choice. There had been words, and hurt on both sides. But much like her father, the Lady was just as stubborn and set. She had refused to be part of the household Oropher led over the Misty Mountains and into the Greenwood. And with her choice, she had became lost to Oropher. Despite his daughter's choice, Thranduil had been loyal to his father. And although he was also close and adored his older sister, and had loved his life in Lindon, Thranduil would simply not be sundered from his father. Galion knew that his king would have been even more lost if Thranduil were not here with him in the Greenwood. It was his son alone that could still bring out the little joy that was left in Oropher.

Galion had been told of this rift between father and daughter, and how it had hardened Oropher even more. This had been told to him from the chief-advisor, who had been friends with Oropher since they were elflings in Thingol's realm. The chief-advisor had in confidence painted the picture of Oropher's life to Galion, thinking that Galion must understand the background of the king he was to serve. Little had been told to him about Thranduil. Just the ever antidotes of his eccentric charm and allure were mentioned, but nothing really beyond that. What Galion had learnt had been from Thranduil himself.

Thranduil as well had told him about Oropher, although he did not often speak of his father, nor of his life in Doriath. But when he did, he vividly portrayed the heartache they had all felt when the home they had loved had been broken. He spoke little of Oropher's heartache through the ages, only painting slight impressions of those painful events.

But Thranduil was also quick to speak about the happier times and of their history. Galion had been told with wonderment in Thranduil's voice of the awakening under the stars, a tell which had been passed down from his grandfather. He was told of their kin tarrying in the great forest, while their leader was held in a trance. Thranduil had told him how his grandfather chose not to travel to the undying lands, but instead helped King Thingol build and govern Doriath as one of his lords. That time had been peaceful and Oropher was born long before King Thingol had renounced the Noldor and banned their tongue.

Oropher was a young lord then, working in Thingol's court. The young Oropher was known in Doriath for being cunning and sharp, but he was also strong and rash. But despite his strange temperament, he had found an elleth who could still his heart. She alone could bring peace to his stormy disposition, and could genuinely pull a smile from his often hard and brooding face. And Oropher adored her. Both Thranduil and the advisor made sure Galion understood that. Oropher had married under a peace, and before the Noldor had been banished from Doriath, his first child had been born.

It was when Thranduil spoke of his sister that his eyes both gleamed with joy and with sorrow. Galion could see the love he still had for her. Their bond was still strong despite the years of their separation. His sister was the apple of Oropher's eye, a beautiful jewel who was even more headstrong than her father. The young elleth loved the stories from the exiles and was quick to learn their tongue and songs. She delighted with her meeting with Galadriel who would come to visit her father's kin Celeborn.

And when the Noldor had been banned as kinslayers, Oropher's second child was born. Thranduil rarely spoke about his own childhood or of how Oropher had been to him in his early years. The stories Thranduil shared were mostly of his grandmother and mother and of his dear sister. But Thranduil spoke most fondly of his mother, and the chief advisor also echoed that sentiment that she was a charming and spirited Lady, full of life and enthusiasm. Thranduil had stated that he favored his mother more so than he did Oropher, inheriting her deep emerald eyes and ivory skin. She was carefree and jovial and he had inherited her gift of foresight and of the healing arts.

From time to time Thranduil would weave anecdotes with Elu Thingol in them, and would even share tales of his grandfather and of Oropher. Thranduil spoke in broken impressions, painting a picture to Galion of a content and peaceful life in the hidden kingdom. The memories were not shared often, but when Thranduil spoke, Galion always listened with great interest.

It took Thranduil many years after he had befriended Galion before he shared his memories of the dark days of Doriath. Galion knew just how hard it was for him to speak about those times, for when he did, he spoke as if in a trance. He stated very little about the day they had witnessed the dwarves slay King Thingol. And then the dwarves had marched and sacked Doriath, and Thranduil spoke of the death that ensued with a detached lamenting. So many had been lost in those days, his grandfather, his friends, his king, and all of their serenity. And then the unthinkable had happened after they had all worked so hard in attempts to rebuild their broken lives. The Noldor had marched, crazed by the Silmaril, and in their madness they had sacked Doriath again. And Thranduil still trembled under the weight of his tears when he spoke of all who had died; his grandmother, his beloved mother.

His mother's death had been devastating to Oropher. But instead of crumbling like Thranduil thought he would, his father had only seemed stronger. He did not show his grief. The loss of his friends, his parents, and his wife had transformed Oropher into a hardened and distant soul. And Thranduil's words on this transformation seemed to be his greatest lament of all.

But even though Oropher was at best, aloof, Galion knew he was caring and a fair ruler to his people, guarding their freedoms and lives with the all of his strength. And the King loved Thranduil, once even mentioning in a brief comment how he saw his wife's kindred spirit living on in him. Even if his King cared not to show it, Galion knew that Oropher worried greatly now.

Now standing silent beside Oropher, Galion too let himself drown in the worry he felt for his king and for Thranduil. Galion knew if Mandos were to claim another member of Oropher's family, his king would retreat further into his dark memories. The Greenwood could not survive an attack from Sauron with a king who was defeated within his own mind. He knew of the stakes, of the growing presence of that evil, of that impending war. They would never survive if Oropher were to loose his reason to even more grief. This simply could not come to pass. Even though Oropher was strong, Galion worried for him now.

Thranduil would never leave his father willingly, Galion knew. It was something else that kept him away, and Galion's mind spun as he frantically wondered what that could possibly be. This delay and the strange forbidding look within Glorfindel's eyes made Galion uneasy. In his worry, he wondered if he should speak of what truly had happened with Glorfindel to Oropher. Before he could speak his concern, Oropher's words snapped him from his thoughts. Galion blinked to see that Oropher was staring right at him, a knowing look written on his face.

"Thranduil will return." Oropher's voice was calm and low. The deep rich undertones were eerily soothing to Galion's spinning mind, and he felt a little serenity.

"I must admit that I am curious as to what or whom has delayed him though." Oropher stood to leave, taking Galion in one last time, who stubbornly refused to speak of what he knew to him.

"Take your rest, Galion. For I feel that tomorrow is going to be an eventful day. We will talk on the morrow."

Galion respectfully inclined his head, and Oropher watched him leave, knowing very well that Galion had a part in the events of this day. Whatever that part was, he would learn of it in time. Now that he was alone, Oropher finally took a drink from his wine goblet. But the wine simply did little for him this night, and he set it aside, deciding that a retreat to his private chambers was what he needed now.

He knew it was not for rest that moved him through his halls. He was beyond angered, and his flowing thoughts would prevent any sort of rest this night. What had ever possessed his foolish son to stay behind in that village of man while he sent the guards on? Even if it was to learn just a little more of what occurred just beyond their lands, that did not justify the actions that Thranduil had made. What madness had possessed his son this day? Although the Greenwood was not an overly dangerous place, just yet, the recent reports of the orcs in the south reaches should have caused his son to think and act with better judgement. Oropher shook his head, realizing that he and Thranduil shared many traits. Thranduil still thought himself invincible, having never been close to death himself. He had only suffered minor injuries along the way and seemed to always dance his way out of major trouble or harm.

On reaching his chambers, Oropher seated himself at his desk, where he absentmindedly pulled out a sheet of paper, ready to compose a letter. Thranduil had finally pushed him now to write the words that poured onto the paper. These silly infatuations were causing Thranduil more harm than not. He had deliberately defied his orders, somehow convincing Galion to help him smuggle Glorfindel out into the Greenwood, where heaven knows what they were doing at this very hour.  
Oropher bothered not to control the scowl that had distorted his fine features. Those silly infatuations clouded Thranduil's mind, endangering his life and those around him. He needed to find his grounding. He needed to find real responsibility. With the ever growing threat of Sauron, Oropher realized that the Greenwood must be strong and prepared to carry on into the future, free of any influences or interference from the other realms. The words he wrote steamed from these thoughts and flowed across the page, filling it at length. He looked it over one last time, letting the ink dry, before he sealed it for its intended party.

Rising, Oropher now looked out into the forest, for the night had wrapped the forest as a dark beauty. The night veiled the city around him. It dulled the distant voices. It silenced the hum of the trees. Despite this calm of the forest and of the city around him, Oropher frowned within. Thranduil had told Glorfindel of his day's activities. They were together. He once again was losing control over the few thing he still cherished. He wanted Glorfindel gone from his realm, but first he wanted him found so he could unleash all his frustrations and vile at him.

Oropher hadn't realized that his hands had now turned to fists, and even the calm forest could not still him any longer. Defeated, he turned from the forest vista. There was no reasoning he could use that would silence his frustrations. Galion had told him that he had not noticed anything unusual between the two during their time together. There had been no flittering or any innuendoes and Thranduil had spoken to Glorfindel only of the Greenwood. Oropher trusted Galion to accurately report if the two had something going on between them. Galion did not see it. Oropher however, was positive of an attraction that swam in his son's jeweled eyes. He should have done better to have kept them isolated from each other.

Even as the night grew ever later, Oropher was weary not. As one of the first born, he could easily go days without rest. Even if sleep he wanted, he knew it would never find him due to the anxiety he held. If Thranduil had truly been in danger, the Greenwood would have told him. Oropher again looked back out into the forest, straining his eyes and his hearing to try to discern even the faintest of a whisper.

Silence. The forest was still. It did not speak to him this night. Again, he turned from the vista and headed deeper into his personal chambers, knowing the two were together this night.

\------

Galion departed Oropher's chambers, turning now to the corridor that would lead him to his own rooms. He strained his hearing as he walked, hoping to catch any news of Glorfindel or of Thranduil. But there was no such news, just the silent halls that echoed back the uncertain disquiet that enveloped the realm within the dark of night.

He reached his modest room which was even darker than the night sky that would soon move on with the breaking of the dawn. The room had not a single window, but Galion didn't mind this architectural oversight. He rarely even spent his time within his chambers. Instead he seemingly was always going right and then going left, moving all around the citadel all day long with his service to Oropher. Galion enjoyed this. He found comfort with this constant motion his life now presented to him.

He cared not for idle leisure, imploring instead to keep his probing mind occupied and out of the mischief he somehow always found himself getting into. As he continued to think, Galion seated himself onto his bed. He had no intent of sleeping at all, for he knew the lure of slumber would be of little match against his formidable and ever looping thoughts. He let the words that Oropher had spoken earlier fill his mind again.

"They are together."

What was this together? Galion wondered, and he began to resume that notion that it was something other than trouble that now kept Thranduil from arriving to these halls. Had it been something other than a dream that had compelled Glorfindel to escape into the forest? Had Thranduil indeed lured him to meet with him beyond the scrutiny of Oropher's unwavering eyes?

As his thoughts moved from concern to those of jealously, Galion felt the unmistakable tinges of those bittersweet emotions surge within his core. They were futile he knew, for some eyes just never would loose themselves within his own yearning gaze. But Glorfindel had managed to do what he could not, and Galion understood why. Glorfindel was everything that Galion was not. He was the golden sun to Thranduil's mithril moon, while he himself was the dark earth who could only uplift his gaze towards those celestial bodies.

"What a life." Galion mused to the pitch black chamber that enclosed him. Somehow he had thought that entering into Oropher's service would have given him his life a purpose, and with that purpose his unsettled mind would ease. But no, the fates just would not let him find his own peace. Instead he had worked his way to ascend to the very position as butler to his king. This had brought him ever closer to the object of his hidden desire. But the longing he felt could never be. Although there was friendship between the two and a confiding honesty, there had never been anything beyond that.

Although he enjoyed and held dear that friendship that was offered to him so willingly, he still craved something more. Galion knew that sometimes the sun did not shine equally for everyone. Where some basked in its warm light, others instead only were given its cold shadows. He let his thoughts filter back to days ago when Thranduil had asked him about his yearning for another.

That night was still so hazy to him as the wine had been too potent, and he had simply drank far too much. He hoped he had not revealed anything to Thranduil that would disclose what his true feelings were for Thranduil. Even though the wine had impacted him, he had still been able to see that subtle recognition from Thranduil.

Thranduil could never know what was really deep within his heart. And Galion frowned with this thinking. If Oropher was wrong about his suspicions and Thranduil had instead ran into trouble, who knew if his friend would even return for him to find out. Galion shook his head, not wanting his mind to travel down that dark path this late night. Oropher was wise, and Galion trusted Oropher's conclusions, even if he did not like the theme of his thoughts.

All that he had was the days that progressed with the same duties and the infrequent invitations into Thranduil's life. All of these events he mulled over, wondering, trying his best to derive his own conclusion that did not result with Glofindel and Thranduil together. But nothing he could formulate would cause his heart or mind to think otherwise. Galion had seen desire reflect within those emerald eyes, and he had seen the same look returned from Glorfindel. There was no denying that.

He sighed, allowing his attention to meander now. Soon the breaking of the dawn would awaken the still city. Galion knew that hour was growing ever closer, so he finally retreated from his thoughts, and lit a candle, content now to simply focus on the early preparations of the impending day.


	8. I Hear Of Things I Do Not Want

It was not the breaking dawn nor the songs of the doves that awoke Glorfindel in this new morning. Instead it was the sounds of Silvan words of alarm and concern, but also of relief that rang through the cabin, driving him from sleep. Glorfindel blinked in his awakening as he turned to see the scene unfold that almost seemed a dream to him. The effects of the forest's spell slowly wore off from him, leaving him a little dazed as he moved from sleep to wakefulness. He listened to Thranduil's slurred words of annoyance and surprise at being woken this early morning.

Thranduil seemed a little pale in the early morning light that filtered through the forest's canopy and into the cabin. He had beads of sweat on his brow, even though his wounds had been tended with that strong, almost magical medicine that Elrond had made. His eyes did not shine with the usual brightness that Glorfindel had come to love. Something was not right, and Glorfindel feared for the worse. He knew now that the orcish arrow had been poisoned, and the healing ointment had not been able to stop its vile spread. He had missed that important care to Thranduil and he felt his stomach drop. Thranduil was in more danger than he had thought, and he had not done enough to aid him.

The guards, understanding that they needed to bring Thranduil back to Oropher's halls as soon as possible, helped him put his boots on, and they wrapped one of their cloaks around his shaking frame. Two guards flanked him on both of his sides, helping him to stand so they could make their way back. Glorfindel silently fell into rank, as he quickly grabbed his belongings, buckling his belt and his sword around his thin under shirt while he followed the Silvan party. They almost seemed not to notice his presence, but were instead engrossed in their concern for Thranduil alone. Glorfindel didn't blame them, for Thranduil looked far too pale this new morning. His breathing was even more haggard, and his eyes reflected nothing but that dark teetering of an internal fight between wake and sleep, and between fever and reality. His walk was slow, labored, and if it wouldn't have been for the support from the guards, Glorfindel knew it would have been downright impossible for Thranduil to move through the forest this new morning.

The forest this morning was light and airy. The sweet summer scents of the blooming world around them cast serenity deep into the Greenwood, despite the dreadful concern they all felt. The path they walked opened up to them, the forest intent to make sure that nothing would hinder their quick movement as they worked to usher Thranduil back home as quickly as possible. Time seemed ever the enemy as the awful realization that the needed remedy to combat the orcish poison was not to be had on any of their persons. They needed to tread with haste back to Oropher's halls, where the master healer could finish the work that Glorfindel had started. Even despite the gravity that fueled their worries, the day was unfolding to be so pleasant, and Glorfindel once again felt the duality of this land envelope his entire being.

The silence that had settled within the group was interrupted when, within a few minutes into the walk, a young looking guard fell into pace beside Glorfindel. He looked sideways at Glorfindel, curious with his large amber eyes that regarded him sporadically through stolen glances. Glorfindel could feel the inquisitive gaze the other gave him, and wondered if he should turn to the guard in greeting. However, it was the guard who eventually broke the silence when his curiosity finally got the better of him.

"What happened?" He asked in accented Sindarin, lilting voice soft but daring in his curiosity. "We had searched for you for almost a day, but yet we could not find you. Never before have our eyes failed to see what we have been appointed to guard so carefully. How did you ever pass by our watch and know to find our prince?"

Glorfindel was not yet prepared for this question, although he knew that he would soon be interrogated long and hard when finally he would be face to face again with Oropher. Not wanting to disclose to the guard more than what was needed, Glorfindel simply replied. "It was the Greenwood."

The guard was silent, but his eyes revealed the wonderment that filled him, and Glorfindel swore the guard seemed to regard him more kindly and with less callous eyes. Glorfindel was not sure what caused the change, and he would have pondered more, but his attention snapped suddenly to Thranduil. The other needed to pause his steps, his strength had wained, and despite the support of his people, he stumbled down to the forest floor.

Glorfindel was quick to rush to him, seating himself beside Thranduil.

"Here" Glorfindel said as he took the flask of miruvor from his belt. It still contained but just a few drops of the medicinal drink, and he helped Thranduil drink the few precious drops that were left.

After he had finished taking the strengthening draught, Thranduil only mustered a feeble smile to Glorfindel before lifting his gaze up to the forest canopy. He was exhausted, and his mind was hazy with a sort of foggy cloud that dulled every other sensation. He felt little pain through his body, but his head was spinning within the warmth of fire. And he was chilled, even though his body was burning with the flames of the poison. He pulled as hard as he could on the cloak, wrapping it tighter around his shaking frame.

"A most beautiful day." Thranduil could only whisper, discomfort evident in the tone of his voice.

Glorfindel and the other guards around grew ever more alarmed, and Glorfindel wondered why the healing balm had done so little. He worried over this new spell that had seeped its poison into Thranduil.

"That orcish arrow, was it not forged with the poisons….." Glorfindel began, but Thranduil cut off his words, quickly dismissing the concern.

"It is nothing." He lied, snapping with a frown that had covered his face with his annoyance and his fever. He did not want to seem weak to Glorfindel, who had but just yesterday saved him from certain death. He did not want to seem weak to the guards who stood around him, concern painted on their faces. He knew he was not even close to having Glorfindel's valor and might, as he was still untested in the face of evil. He felt childish and insignificant in comparison. In his frustration and pain, he suddenly stood abrupt, forcing with all his will to stay standing. The guards rushed to his side, subtly helping Thranduil stand, and their fair faces were covered more with the frowns of their concern.

Glorfindel too, frowned. For all his difference from Oropher, Thranduil still carried his father's pride. He knew just what harm elvish pride could do, for he himself had been guilty of trying to mask some serious injuries. He had suffered in silence and had pushed himself beyond what his body could handle, all with a stubborn will that was beyond him to pacify. Even as the years passed him by, and he grew in his wisdom and might, he still hated to admit defeat. He understood what moved through Thranduil, but his pride would be the death of him. Still, he knew better than to point out the obvious in the midst of Thranduil's people. The guard who had spoken earlier shot Glorfindel a knowing look. Glorfindel returned it, and moved closer to Thranduil and the guards, just in case.

As they headed back, Thranduil only grew more irritable, his pain and annoyance manifested in his body language and in his sharp grumblings about everything except his injuries. He spoke in circles about the armies of Sauron laying siege to the lands of Gondor. And when they questioned his words and meaning, his response was only lashing out at them, demanding that they let loose of their hold on him. He glared at Glorfindel, pleading that he avert his gaze and move away from him. He cried out at the forest, calling the land around them vile and fowl. He stumbled more often, his weight more supported by the guards that he started to curse at in his delirium. Even as his mind was slipping, still his strong will kept him going, and he fought to keep moving back to his father's halls. Despite his fever, there was still a part deep within him that knew he needed to get home for his survival.

However, with his fever burning, and his mind battling the toxins, they all knew that he needed to be seen quickly by the healers. The guard who had earlier spoke with Glorfindel broke off in a sprint now, to inform the healers to prepare for their arrival. Thranduil watched him go through lidded eyes, before a swirling darkness overcame him. Glorfindel and the guards were there to catch him, insuring he would not hit the ground.

\-------

The guard, whose name was Taranir, was scarcely one hundred and five years old, and had by hard work made his way into an elite guard unit. This guard unit was often sent out by Oropher for very important missions and could track and hunt even the most skilled evaders. They had been sent out yesterday to hunt for the Lord Glorfindel who had somehow slipped by unseen into their forest. It was an assignment that Taranir was proud to have earned. He had only been accepted just a few days before into the ranks of Oropher's elite guard, and now, here he was on one of the most important missions of his very young career.

He had been selected he knew because he was one of the swiftest around, moving silently and rapidly, seemingly flying through the forest. He darted and ducked, leaped and twisted, avoiding the swooping branches and limbs and roots that marked the path. He could hear the forest worry, leaves and branches rolled and shook with whispers of a dire wound.

Taranir suddenly flashed back to earlier, when that loathsome Glorfindel had stated that Greenwood had spoken to him. He wondered if it were Thranduil then and not Oropher who was right about Glorfindel. The Greenwood did not commune with foul or vile things. Their king had warned them to trust not the Noldor, for they only brought grief and ruin with their greed and blind ambitions. But he had seen the warmth and friendship Thranduil had given freely to Glorfindel, and Glorfindel had saved Thranduil's life. His king was wise. If the Greenwood saw the good in Glorfindel, he knew Oropher would to.

Taranir's mind then returned back to his worry, and he almost panicked as he ran, his youth still more powerful than was the years of his training. Pushing harder through the remaining distance that spawned the morning hours, he finally reached the steps of the citadel, rushing quick to the hall of his king. He ran through the corridors, surprising the others who were busily going about their day, not caring to slow his pace. He dashed into Oropher's study, not caring to stop when the guards yelled, questioning his sudden intrusion.

"Taranir?" Oropher turned to the young guard, as he was started by his sudden entrance. Oropher stood by his chief- counsellor, and the two had been deep in conversation this morning. The ever silent Galion looked on with a distant look written on his face, standing far into the room by an open window.

"What news do you bring?" Oropher's tone was anxious, his eyes were intense, barring straight into Taranir's eyes.

"Thranduil," Taranir gasped for air, even as he pushed his words out with a force to convey the morning's developments to his king. "He is wounded, and although he is being brought here with much haste, his condition only grows graver. He burns with fever from his injuries. The healers need to be readied for his arrival."

Oropher didn't even need to send those commands to ready the healers for Thranduil's arrival, for Galion had already rushed out of the room for the needed preparations. Oropher seemed shaken for only a brief second before he once again masked his emotions under his ever placid facade. He was silent for but a moment, before he addressed his guard once more.

"Inform me at once when the party arrives." He almost dismissed Taranir but then stopped, suddenly curious of the whereabouts of Glorfindel who was still lurking in his forest unseen.

"Tell me, was the Lord Glorfindel to be found within the Greenwood, or does he still conceal his presence deep within the bowels of our forest?" Oropher's voice was piercing, demanding an answer.

"Yes, my King. The Lord Glorfindel has been found. He was there this morning with Thranduil in a remote outpost, away from our usual paths."

On hearing what he already suspected Oropher gave little reaction, just a flicker of knowing that flashed briefly in his eyes. Oropher turned, as if he was ready to dismiss Taranir so he could reflect on the words.

"I would like to add.." Taranir stated suddenly, turning to Oropher to face him once more.

"Go on, speak freely." Oropher urged Taranir to speak his mind. His vibrant eyes revealed his youth, and Oropher noted to relax his face, hoping to reassure Taranir that he deeply valued open communication with his people.

"My King," Taranir felt compelled to share what Glorfindel had stated to him this morning. "Lord Glorfindel stated to me that the Greenwood had told him how to find Thranduil. And when he first woke Thranduil, he told us that Glorfindel had come to him in his most dire hour, saving him during an orc attack. Your son seemed convinced that he would be dead if not for Glorfindel finding him."

He watched as Oropher's brows raised a little as he processed the words he was hearing. Oropher's face showed confusion but for just a split second, before it too soon returned to placidity. Taranir could not read any sort of emotion in the cold hard rocks that were Oropher's eyes.

Oropher's response was only one of silence, before he gave a gentle nod to dismiss Taranir. He lingered just a moment in the office before he motioned for his advisor to follow him to the throne room where they would await the arrival of Glorfindel. Seconds melted to minutes and the minutes turned slowly within the frozen arms of time, trickling into a never ending hour. And slower ever than that never ending hour, was the remaining time that languidly ebbed into the sound of an arriving party.

Deciding to stay in the throne room to receive Glorfindel was not an easy choice for Oropher. Although he knew his son would be in capable hands, he still wanted to see with his own eyes the condition Thranduil was in. But, since a healer he was not, he saw no reason to go to the healing wing just yet, as there was nothing he could do. Instead he sat, waiting on his wooden throne for Glorfindel's arrival, as he had instructed that he be brought immediately to his throne room.

As Oropher waited, he reflected on the statement that Taranir had told him. He fumed at the thought that the Greenwood would speak to Glorfindel, or share even a glimpse of one of its visions with an outsider. He refuted the statement. The Greenwood had shared no such urgent dangers yesterday with him. Why would the spirits that lived in the forest move within an intruder, instead of the very king who vowed to protect these lands and people? It made little sense to him why when he tried to hear the voices of the forest, the dire worry that moved Glorfindel was returned to him with only silence.

No. He entertained this notion not, but was convinced instead of another conclusion. He knew that Thranduil had told Glorfindel to spread this lie in order to spare Glorfindel from his wrath. But his son's plan was so transparent, so fallacious with its oversight of an explanation as to why the forest would move through Glorfindel and not through its own king?

Thranduil could easily fool his subjects with his charms and his delusive words, but Oropher knew better. He knew Thranduil's heart. He was not so unlike his sister, trusting and accepting the Noldor, learning their lore and accepting their friendship. Thranduil had fallen under the spell of Glorfindel who was haunting their home, and Oropher clearly saw it.

And just as his assessment of the Noldor had been through the years as being a dangerous and distrustful lot, this one was proving to be just as dangerous as the others. Even more so, Oropher mused. Glorfindel had tempted his son to turn astray from the truths that he had formulated in his mind over the years, causing him to send off his guards so he could meet with Glorfindel alone. In his foolishness and with the spell he had fallen under, instead of being safe within his halls, Thranduil had instead had ran into an orc host that had nearly claimed his life.

Oropher had simply had enough of this madness. Glorfindel's will was as strong as his own, and his patience was just as vast. He would commence with his original plan. There would be a meeting. Glorfindel could state his words, and he would send him off, with Thranduil watching, powerless to keep Glorfindel from being banished from the realm forever. It would be a final triumph of his will and order over the lands of Greenwood and over the people in it. Life would return to normal. Thranduil would be free from the poison of Glorfindel. The peace and balance would return and the Greenwood's gentle nature would continue to heal his broken soul.

\-------------

As they drew nearer to the capital, Glorfindel could see the eyes of the forest watching their parade. The faces of the elves who watched their procession were solemn, as they knew the bitter sorrows of the world had arrived once more into their very isolated world. Glorfindel could feel those eyes on him, but even though their eyes were piercing, the others were silent as they passed, intent to watch in a still vigil as the citadel rose in front of them in the distance.

The grand doors opened before them, and Glorfindel watched as Thranduil was carried one way, and he was led another way by the captain of the guards to Oropher's throne room. Just as he remembered, the grand room opened up to him. The giant stone pillars towered as the forest's trees, long branches reaching above him. And just as the last time he had entered into this room, Oropher was seated as stoic as a statue. His eyes were still as cold and hard as they always were when he looked on him.

Oropher rose in greeting to Glorfindel, face showing great disapproval at him however. He paused as Glorfindel moved closer to his throne, before he descended down the few short steps to the same level where Glorfindel stood. He walked over to him, eyes as cold as the dead of winter as he continued to glare at Glorfindel.

"I missed you at our meeting of alliance." Oropher mocked him, cordial hospitality blatantly void as he let his irritation ring out in his throne room.

Glorfindel expected as much, and wondered if Oropher had been told of the events from the last two days yet. Glorfindel wouldn't be surprised if the simple facts bad been kept from Oropher, and he was ready to speak the truth to the king.

"I do apologize, Lord Oropher, for missing our scheduled meeting." Glorfindel stated, but was interrupted by Oropher's words. He smiled within, expecting nothing less from Oropher.

"I have been told that you were found with Thranduil this morning, and furthermore my guards informed me that you saved my son during an orc ambush." Oropher watched as Glorfindel's eyebrow rose, seemingly surprised that the events were indeed spoken of to him. Oropher fumed within with the words he was about to say, but he kept his true venom contained.

"Please know that all of the Greenwood is thankful for the bravery of your sword." Oropher bowed his head ever so slightly and elegantly to Glorfindel. His actions, although showing his gratitude, dripped however with his sardonic disdain for Glorfindel.

Oropher continued his words, annunciated with his scorn. "Thranduil is being treated by our best healers. You need not worry about his fate, for you just happened to be there for him just before his darkest hour."

Oropher moved now, stepping to Glorfindel's right, allowing a closer proximity between the two than ever before. His cold green eyes peered deep into Glorfindel's as if he hoped his gaze would open a confession to something other than what he had stated. But Glorfindel remained silent, content instead to let Oropher continue with his words.

"I must admit," Oropher continued as Glorfindel kept his silence. "that had we found you before I had heard the words from Taranir of what my son had said about yesterday's events, I would have had you banished without another word. However, with the turn of events, I see no reason to delay our meeting any further. In remittance for your deeds, I will truly give you your day to plead alliance. Once Thranduil has healed, we will have that discussion. If Gil-galad seeks an alliance with the Silvan elves of the Greenwood, I can at least hear his herald out, for this herald has shown his noble qualities. You are deemed worthy in the eyes of the Greenwood."

"This is most welcome news." Glorfindel inclined his head respectfully, as he watched Oropher's expression remain ever veiled on his true feelings.

Although Oropher had said a meeting would soon be held, that commencement hinged however on the recovery of Thranduil. Glorfindel wondered why Oropher would include this stipulation as to when the meeting would commence, and wondered if Oropher simply waited for a confession from Thranduil as to how he had come to find Thranduil out in the Greenwood. And Glorfindel continued to watch Oropher who only just kept his steady gaze on him. He waited for the questions of how he had found Thranduil, of how he had evaded the guards, of how he even knew to venture into the Greenwood. But the questions did not come. It was just the ever silent stare from Oropher that continued to bore into his own eyes. Glorfindel wondered if perhaps this was a challenge for him to speak his mind.

"I was led by a dream." Glorfindel stated with a bold confidence. He noted the slight irritation that resounded within Oropher's breath as he listened to his words. 

"I really had no intentions of slighting you when I failed to appear for our scheduled meeting. Please know that the ever pressing issue of the Dark Lord burdens my mind, as I know it does yours." Glorfindel stopped speaking, notting that Oropher seemed little interested in his explanation or plea. Oropher still remained obstinate as if he had already learned the truth that only mattered to him. But still, Oropher let his eyes relay that he was listening, inviting Glorfindel to continue with his words.

"Thranduil mentioned that the armies of Sauron march on Gondor. I feel that soon his eyes will turn to your own realm." Glorfindel still wondered of the earlier words Thranduil had spoken through his fever. He hadn't mentioned a word of this the day before when his mind had been more lucid. He wondered now if Oropher had heard any news himself on the matter, and felt compelled to speak on this topic.

Oropher heard the concern from Glorfindel, and he let his mind flash with the worry he also knew. Glorfindel's words gave him alarm. He had yet to hear of an attack by their enemy on the lands of Gondor, but he noted to keep his surprise from showing on his face. He was truly distressed with this news, for he knew that the enemy would never be satisfied until all the lands were under his shadow. The Greenwood was not immune.

This newly learned information that would have directed most leaders to act with reason and with action, quickly turned to something other within Oropher. And Oropher began to believe that Glorfindel only spoke these words to sway him to alliance. His mind began to doubt what Glorfindel told him, and quickly Oropher's anger flared, letting his mind cloud back with his hatred for Glorfindel. Glorfindel was only trying to trick him. Again the lies of the Noldor were being presented to him. He vowed to keep his people away from the grief that the he had lived through due to the lies and deceit of the Noldor.

"I was not aware you had the gift of foresight, Lord Glorfindel. Indeed it seems the longer you stay, the more of your amazing talents and traits I have the privilege to learn of."

Glorfindel was a little surprised with the sting of the words, and he was a little taken aback that the king's cold unfriendly demeanor failed to change even with the saving of his son. Even the worrisome news of their shared enemy did not sway Oropher from his cold indifference on what grew and festered just outside his realm. Truly unbelievable, Glorfindel thought. There was absolutely no way to reach Oropher. Even with Thranduil almost dying, still Oropher would not heed his words. But Glorfindel kept his calm, not yet ready to unleash his true might against the obstinate Oropher.

"You hold your tongue well, but your eyes reflect your inner storm, Lord Glorfindel. If there is something you would like to add to this conversation, please do so. You have my full attention."

The cold gaze from the king's emerald eyes was as hard as the stone of the pillars that surrounded them, and he possessed a stone soul that seemed to be devoid of any warmth or care. And Glorfindel felt very uncomfortable and wanted no more to speak with Oropher this day. His soul was weary and his mind would not move from wondering how Thranduil was faring. He was strangely exhausted, weighed down with his worry for Thranduil.

"Although I feel relief with knowing that my actions have not yet doomed this meeting, the greater worry of Thranduil does crash within my mind. It is like a great wave of unease. It is now becoming impossible for me to think of anything else except my concern for someone who has been so close to death."

Oropher's eyes flashed with a slight irritation, evidently displeased with the knowing of Glorfindel's deeds and the frailty of his son. That simple yet powerful act would have caused even the hardest of stone hearts to crack and relent, but to Glorfindel, Oropher seemed only more distant, more scornful. Perhaps it was nothing more than the worry that Oropher now had for his son, or the still lingering annoyance from the changing of his plans. Thranduil had told him that Oropher craved order in his life, and through his sheer domination had tried his hardest to create a life of order. But Glorfindel knew this life of order was nothing but an illusion. And even Thranduil too shared this sentiment, stating that the walls that Oropher had built around this realm would never keep the world from eventually crashing in on it.

"Your concern is little warranted. Thranduil is strong and my healers are most skilled. Do not let your worries on this matter trouble your soul any longer."

His words were strangely gentle now and Glorfindel felt an odd confusion at Oropher's duality. But then again, these lands and the people who dwelled within it seemed to embody a dyadic personality. He wondered why Oropher gave him council that was a little more compassionate and a little less harsh now. Perhaps the words he simply spoke now were simply meant for himself and no one else at all.

"Your words are true, my Lord. But still, the worry is difficult to dispel. With your permission, I would like to visit with Thranduil to see with my own eyes that he is well."

No sign from Oropher gave away his thoughts on the subject and his ever obstinate face remained silent in his reluctance to respond to the request. The silence that settled in the room kept Glorfindel frozen, and he waited for Oropher to utter his verdict on his request.

"When that time comes regarding Thranduil's condition is known, word will be made to you." Oropher cared not to state more to Glorfindel. "If you will excuse me, Lord Glorfindel, I must see to my guards, for I require additional information from my people. Please refresh yourself and take your meal. I will see you next when we have this meeting, if not sooner."

Glorfindel wasn't surprised that he had been dismissed, although he was disappointed that Oropher seemed little interested in the real and growing threat the Dark Lord poised to his people. But still, the meeting had gone better than what he had initially feared. The council of alliance would still commence and his mission had not yet failed. Still, with what he continued to experience from Oropher, his doubt grew that he would be able to reach the vindictive Oropher.

Masking his annoyance yet again, Glorfindel returned the polite nod of departure. He was more than a little flabbergasted as he turned from the throne room, turning over again in his mind the few words that Oropher had given him.

\---------------

Galion had moved with haste to inform the healers of the impending arrival of the injured party. He awaited nervously for his dear friend's arrival. The usual calm he exhibited was now replaced with a transparent worry that resonated through his entire body and in his eyes. His brown eyes glistened with worry as if tears threatened to fall. Those who worked in the healing wing knew that he and Thranduil were close, and that they had taken on a friendship that had started the first day they had met. The healers mostly ignored Galion's presence, and he was mindful to stay out of their way. Galion watched as they boiled water and prepared the herbs they would need to treat Thranduil's injuries.

Time seemed even more still to Galion with its tormenting taunt of the unknown condition they would find Thranduil in. It was even more annoying and slow moving than when it seemed to have stopped a few days before when he had joined with Thranduil when he went to heal Ferdir. Galion was always in motion and was use to living his life in a blur, but now with nothing he could do, he simply sat and waited, heart pounding in his worry. His stillness was unnerving and only acted to heighten his anxiety and cause his concern to scream within his mind. His heart raced as its pounding within, deafened the noise in the room from the healers.

Almost detached from his long wait, he finally heard the sounds of voices calling of Thranduil's arrival. And as if he was watching a scene unfold that seemed too surreal to actually be happening, he saw Thranduil placed on a bed, skin ashen and eyes closed, brow soaked with a fever that was raging within.

It was all too much and Galion in his worry, too, closed his eyes. He did not want to see the scene unfold. He did not want to see Thranduil being attended in such a dire condition. Instead he let his memories transport him to other times in this room, where Thranduil often worked as a healer. His friend would spend hours working and learning the art of healing. Galion suspected at first that Thranduil simply busied himself to steer clear of Oropher, and the work of a lord, but soon Galion had learned just how talented Thranduil was as a healer. Absentmindedly, he rubbed a scar on his skin, and fought back the tears that were threatening to flow from his eyes while he watched the master-healers work on Thranduil. Galion hadn't cared to check his emotions and was jarred from his intense watch of Thranduil by one of the young healer apprentices.

"Galion." He seated himself by Galion. "The sentries say that the arms of evil is ever growing and its stretch reaches over much of the lands. And here our own continue to shoulder its furry. Will that of dread and pain only gain a stronger hold on all that we love?"

Galion only nodded, feeling just as wretched as the healer whose gentle tears could not be stopped.

"Tears will bring not the essence of healing that is needed in these rooms." An older healer chided the young apprentice. "I have seen better wounds, but also have I seen those wounds that are by far much worse than what has befallen our friend here. Keep watch and keep faith, for a healer is and should always be the very last one to fall into doubt and despair."

She placed a reassuring pat on the young healer's shoulder and gave Galion a knowing look. He too took in her words that gave him a renewed strength. He watched on as the healer said her words, drawing the poison from Thranduil, strengthening his fae that had dimmed under the toxins which slowly threatened his life.

Galion knew only the basics of the healing arts, for all elves were endowed with those skills. But when it came to more severe wounds and injuries that could pull the very soul from the body, Galion lacked the ability to treat those injuries. He watched as the herbs were placed on Thranduil's wounds with gentle and caring hands, and again Galion was transported back to another time all together.

He could almost feel Thranduil's hands on him when he had gently cared for his seeping wounds. He had been panicked, crying out in his agony. But Thranduil's words had been sedative and his skill had prevented his wounds from falling into infection. Those long ivory fingers had tenderly brushed his hair back and he had stayed with him all through the night tending him, caring for him, and simply holding his hand as he guarded his sleep.

Over the years Thranduil had shared his love and interest in the healing arts with him. And he had listened on politely but he never did share that same enthusiasm for it that Thranduil did. Thranduil had even told him of his days in Lindon where he studied with Lord Elrond, and Galion had simply only smiled back, not really sure why that detail mattered so. Now as he sat pained and useless in watch over his friend, he wished that he would have paid more attention to Thranduil's words and would have studied healing with him. It would be him then who would be healing Thranduil instead of watching useless on the sidelines.

He was pulled back to reality when the apprentice-healer brought him from this thoughts. "How long will you keep watch Galion?" He asked, as he was not use to Galion's presence in the healing wings.

"I will report back to the King as soon as it becomes known that Thranduil is well. I know our Lord will want immediate word on his improved condition." He kept his voice steady behind his facade of ever dutiful servant to the King, even as his emotions crashed against his will.

The young healer only nodded, and later soon rose as his services were needed to fetch more fresh water. Galion politely regarded his departure and listened more as the healers worked.

Thranduil had finally opened his eyes, if not but a brief moment, and Galion found himself rising, moving closer to him

"My friend." He implored, gripping now the still cold hand within his own. But Thranduil did not open his eyes.

It was the poison, Galion knew. It seeped through Thranduil's body, it was pulling him away from them. The cold of his hand was evidence to that. He heard the healers mention the poison, but he also heard them speak of the remarkable healing that had already began with the other injuries. They knew the balm that had been used. It was made with one of the rarest plants that had long ago vanished from the face of Arda. The attributes from the Beltloth's flowers had the strongest healing properties, and due to its potency and rarity, the balm made from the plant was worth as much as triple of its weight in mithril. Thranduil had told them about the suave, and had brought a tiny amount of it with him that he had made when he lived in Lindon.

The healers were astounded that Thranduil could have used it on himself and had also been able to dress his wounds. They did not know that Glorfindel had been involved, and Galion felt compelled to tell them.

"It was Glorfindel who did it." Galion interjected, marveling at just how noble Glorfindel truly was, even though he still felt a strong jealousy towards him.

"We owe him our gratitude then." The master-healer stated. "The wounds were meticulously cleaned and medicated with the strongest and most effective healing balm we know of. Already his wounds are at a healing stage that would lead us to believe that the injuries afflicted to him had happened a week ago. But yet this is not so."

Galion regarded their words with wonder, surprised by what they said.

"The only symptom we really needed to treat was the poison. We gave him the treatment needed. He will fully recover." The ancient-healer stood, surveying her charge one last time before she turned her attention to other matters. She ordered the cleaning of the room and requested that Thranduil be moved to a more private and comfortable setting.

"Take you leave, Galion." She stated, turning back to him. "I will not permit any visitor, except the king himself, to disturb his lordship's rest now. Please inform our king that a full recovery will be had within the next few days."

Galion politely bowed in departure, although he was immensely annoyed and disappointed that he could not stay with Thranduil. His quick walk through the halls as he headed back to Oropher informed the others that he was on a mission and would not stop for their questions on Thranduil's condition.

"Galion!" a guard called out to him, ignoring Galion's quick walk and the aloofness written on his face. The guard ran after him, calling out again his request that caused Galion to stop. "Our king has requested that Lord Glorfindel's sword be taken for cleaning as a token of our appreciation for his aide to his son. He wants this done at once and requested that you ensure it is carried out."

"Please inform our king that I will see this task be done. And please," Galion was annoyed that he could not yet see Oropher, but his face still showed his relief regarding Thranduil. "Inform the King that Thranduil will soon recover."

He watched as the guard nodded and departed down another corridor, before he turned to head to Glorfindel's chambers.

\--------

On his dismissal, Glorfindel had returned back to his rooms. He was mentally drained and he sighed as he undid his belt and removed his boots and light undershirt. He knew he looked a mess, and he felt even worse than he looked. He was still covered with that black orcish blood, and he wanted desperately to clean himself and purge his body of the vile blood and oder.

As if in a daze, he continued to run Oropher's words though his head. They brought his soul to even more weariness, and he desperately craved a bath now. He walked into his washroom pleased to find that warm water had been filled in the standing tub for him. Before he could remove his trousers and soak himself into the inviting water, a knock came on his door. He recognized the knock, even though he was slightly annoyed to be delayed with the cleansing he so wanted. Quickly without pause, he went to open the door. Galion's clear brown eyes peered at him in a rather indifferent greeting.

"Your sword." Galion stated. "The King has requested that I make sure we have it properly cleaned for you."

Glorfindel had to admit he was utterly surprised with the words that Galion now stated to him. "A most surprising gesture from your lord." Glorfindel mused. "I am more than capable of cleaning my own sword however. But I do appreciate this kind gesture on your king's part."

Glorfindel motioned for Galion to enter into his rooms. His sword was propped up against the wall, and he took it now, pulling it back from its sheath. It was covered in dried black orc blood. As he looked it over, he admitted that his sword did need cleaned, but he was a little hesitant to hand it over to Oropher. His strong warrior instincts told him to keep his sword. He looked at Galion, whose eyes questioned his delay. Not wanting to insult Oropher's good will, he finally handed the sword to Galion.

"Oh," Glorfindel suddenly remembered. "Wait!" He moved over to the desk in the room, and picked up a belt that he had removed from Thranduil back in the cabin. After the fight, he had found Thranduil's daggers, and had placed them back into their pouch. "These belong to Thranduil. I am sure he would like to have these cleaned as well."

Galion nodded, taking the sword and the daggers, surprised with just how heavy the weapons were. He was used to bows and arrows, and not so much to these foreign weapons of the Western outsiders. He turned to leave, but then he stopped, turning his gaze back to Glorfindel.

"Thank you." Galion suddenly stated in a rushed and soft voice. He adverted his gaze, not caring to see the reaction that Glorfindel gave him. "Thank you so much for saving Thranduil." He abruptly turned before Glorfindel could respond, ensuring that he could not see the tears that now flowed down his face so freely.

"Wait. Galion! How is Thranduil?" Glorfindel called to Galion, but his words only fell on death ears. He watched as the other had hastily departed his chambers.

"Galion!" He cried out, but Galion would not turn back to him and soon had disappeared into the expansive maze of Oropher's corridors. Glorfindel stood in a stupor, but Galion had stated that Thranduil had been saved. He let his heart rest on those words, before he closed his door. He went back to the bath, removing the last of his clothing before he settled himself into the warmth of the water, hoping to relax his body and mind from the very long and exhausting day.

\------------------

It was only after the day's most crucial activities had concluded that Oropher finally made his way to the healing wing. He had spent most of the afternoon and evening with his counsellors discussing the attacks and the news from Glorfindel that Gondor was under siege by the Dark Lord. They were all beyond concerned with this newest development, and they all wondered just how long until that shadow crept into their own lands. Oropher had ordered his guards double their numbers at their borders for a constant watch.

He knew Thranduil would be sleeping, getting the much needed rest that would be required to heal him thoroughly from his wounds. But all the same Oropher needed to see him. On entering the healing wing, he was greeted by the master-healer who relayed the very same words that Galion had requested a guard say to him earlier. Thranduil would recover. But as the healer spoke on, Oropher was a little stunned just to hear just how badly injured Thranduil had really been. The orcs had abused both his mind and body, and had inflicted their poison into his body when they had shot him with an arrow. But Oropher let the worry leave his mind, for he knew that this was really nothing to that of elven-kind. Thranduil would quickly heal from that abuse, and this would all be but a distant memory in a sea of countless others within his long and immortal life.

Even though Thranduil was deep in a healing sleep, he entered the room as silently as he could, not wanting to disturb in the slightest this sleep his son needed now. Although the room was dark with the lanterns' lights turned down, Oropher could still make out the wounds and he could see the abuse on Thranduil's face. The orcs must have really given him a beating, Oropher accessed, but he could already see that the bruises and cuts were healing and fading away on his son's fair face. The healer had told him that Glorfindel had used the Beltloth flower's balm on Thranduil's wounds, which more than likely had saved his life. Yet still, Oropher knew that the healing wasn't over yet, for Thranduil's eyes were firmly closed in his sleep.

Despite his want to reach out and touch his son as gently as he had when Thranduil was but only a small child, Oropher only just watched him sleep. He sat for awhile, heart awash in relief, but mind still heavily troubled. Knowing that there was nothing he could do here, he turned away, and left Thranduil to sleep under the ever watchful eyes of the healers.

"See to it that he recuperates fully before he is to be released. And…." Oropher locked eyes with the master-healer. "Keep him convalescing in these rooms alone. There is to be no visitors allowed except for whom would have my permission granted first." Oropher ordered, making sure he would stop all interactions between Glorfindel and Thranduil from this point forward.

"And Galion?" the healer asked.

"Of course, of course. He is to have full access as you see fit."

"That is good, my lord, for your butler cares greatly for his friend and the presence of kindred spirits always help the healing process. And what of Glorfindel?"

But Oropher did not answer the healer's question before he disappeared into the dark corridor.

\----------

It had been a long day and now that the night had come to the Greenwood again, Glorfindel was alone, seemingly forgotten with the chaos that had settled within Oropher's halls. There had been no one to come to him since Galion had left him when he had requested his sword. He had been alone with nothing or no one to break up the monotony of his solitude. Glorfindel hadn't realized just how much he had grown to cherish Thranduil's company. He was undeniably growing found of his kind and enchanting soul, the dulcet hum of his voice, those bewitching emerald eyes. Glorfindel sighed. This was not good. Not good at all.

Changing his thoughts he forced his mind to reflect on the the words from Oropher. They still resounded strongly in his mind. Oropher had surprised him again, and Glorfindel realized that he still knew so little about him. He had thought his actions would have only been greeted with Oropher's dismissal. Even Thranduil had doubted his father's acceptance of hearing him out once more. But yet he was still wanting to meet with him so that he could plead alliance. But why wait for Thranduil's recovery? Glorfindel was stumped on that one. Was Thranduil to also be involved with the meetings?

Glorfindel certainly hoped so, for Thranduil had proven to be an ally thus far, sharing his belief that the elven realms unite to march against the Dark Lord. He was the reason that could guide this realm, the reason that might actually break through to Oropher.

His thoughts reflected more on Thranduil. He wondered just how his friend was doing this night. He had been told nothing about him since he had arrived back here, except the thanks from Galion where he had stated that Thranduil had been saved. This night had been one the most cruel of his nights thus far in the Greenwood. He would much rather face all the swords of the orc host than be subject to this silence and unknowing that was forced on him now. The silence was piercing. The night was still. And Glorfindel was alone with just his thoughts in this silent night, waiting for word on Thranduil that seemed would never come.

\--------------

  
The night that had passed had been uneventful, silent, almost too still. The voices of the inhabitants in and around the citadel had been absent, hushed as if lost in their own silent vigil. The dark of the forest had seemed stronger, the gentle lanterns glowed less in the stifling darkness of the clouded and veiled sky. Their subtle light shone much more meeker. The fireflies were beyond their immediate area, hiding their light deep within the thick of the dense forest. The light from the moon and stars were distant, hidden, veiled behind the night's clouds. There had been no wind, no disturbances, except for that almost eerie nothing that blanketed everything. It was stifling, almost oppressive even.

The absence of the strange forest sounds; the silence of the night calling of the owls, the stillness of the rustling of the underbrush, and the stifled breezes through the leaves had left Oropher in a restless mood, even despite the unusual calm of the Greenwood. His mind still weighed heavily on the attack on Gondor. The event's confirming was no more simply from the words of a fevered mind, but had came to him from the lips of a messenger. The enemy grew ever bolder, ever with more malevolence in his need to control all others. In response of the ill news, he had called on the doubling of the guards to patrol their outer borders, a move that even he wondered would perhaps not be enough to keep that evil from encroaching into their lands. But still, even as the great cities in Gondor were under siege, their lands still had peace. It was an ever watchful peace that balanced on the end of a dagger's edge, so fragile and so easily broken. Oropher wondered when it was all said and done, would he be able to protect his people? Or would the fires of destruction claim them all? It was simply not in his nature to despair, but deep within, that simple doubt and unknowing raged within his mind.

The Noldor offered an alliance. A call to challenge the Dark Lord, and preserve that delicate peace. And Oropher pondered it. Thranduil was in favor of the alliance. He was in favor for marching under the command of Gil-galad. But Oropher was not so sure yet about even considering this action. He simply could not forget the words of Thingol who in his infinite wisdom had known not to trust the Noldor. Thingol was the mightiest and wisest person that he had ever had the privilege of knowing. He knew from the moment the exiles had returned to their lands not to trust them. Even the very few he had ever let into the realm, Oropher had regarded with caution, and with his aloofness, had followed his king's mindset. He had lost friends because of the Noldor. Even his kin Celeborn would not see through their lies. He had lost him, he had lost his daughter. He would not lose his son.

He let his mind pause with his thoughts, and he turned his gaze to the open forest vista. The breaking dawn had cast the forest as almost otherworldly, ethereal, haunting. Usually the dark of the forest would fill his mind with its glorious distractions. But not this night. Oropher closed his eyes, letting his head drop into his hands. It was a posture he rarely let himself fall into, for it symbolized uncertainty, weakness, and defeat. But he was alone, and he simply did not care to hold his head up any longer, as if the weight of all the years had finally rained their troubles solely onto him once more.

With his head down turned, Oropher's mind seemed to will that he remember and feel what he had tried so hard to erase and forget from his soul. Usually he could fight the subtle pains that would start. He would turn to wine, to the forest, to the running of his realm, and those memories would simply fade back within the dark folds of his soul. But that pain and those memories never truly left him, he knew. They just remained buried deep within, festering like a horrid wound that just waited for the right time to strike back with a vengeance through his mind, and with a piercing through his soul.

Her eyes. Unblinking, unseeing, staring through him. They were void of the light that shone with the beauty of her spirit. So powerful, so enchanting. She was gone and he had not been there to save her during the chaos that had rained down around them. Her beautiful soul, gone from him now to a place that he just could not follow her to. He knew he would never give into to his grief and fade to where her soul would wait to be reembodied. She was lost forever to him now.

Their promise of forever had been broken, stolen from him by the Noldor. He tightened his fist as those waves of emotions hit him with all their crushing, wrenching, tortorurous turmoil that he had felt thousands of years ago.

There could be no alliance. He would never answer the call of the Noldor. He would never unite under their banner, yielding his people's fate to their destructive and reckless ways. Oropher raised his head now fueled with the strength of his anger, and he let his eyes fall back into staring into the dark of the forest.

How long he stared, he cared not to think about. The world could have stopped for all he cared. Time could have finally been broken, for the forest around him seemed frozen, inanimate as one of the many murals that decorated the rooms within his halls. It seemed that if he were to reach his hand just beyond the window he would only feel the cold hard surface of stone instead of the emptiness of the air.

"Sire?" Galion's gentle voice did not penetrate to the king, who kept his silent watch of the plodding breaking of the dawn within the Greenwood.

Galion awaited a reply, a turn, a stir, any sort of acknowledgment from Oropher. But nothing come from his liege. The silence penetrated the room and seemed to roll out into the forest, unheard, unperceived, lost within the thousands of trees beyond the room they stood in. Galion could not hear the birds sing in this approaching morning, nor did the forest whisper their words of the tidings. And his long forgotten call to his king remained ignored, having disappeared within the void that seemed to have settled around Oropher who sat within this dimly lit room.

Galion could only guess that Oropher had been deep in thought throughout the entire night. Perhaps he worried for his son, or perhaps he had debated about their place in the wold and where that would lead them in regards to the fight against the Dark Lord. Or simply yet, perhaps he was simply sleeping now straight up in the chair he sat on.

Galion allowed himself to smile, amused with his thoughts, despite all the worry he had felt these last couple of days. He was exhausted himself. He hadn't slept in over two days, and while that was common for him, the weight of his thoughts and worry drained the energy from his soul. He knew the same would be true for Oropher, and even more so. For his king was like an impermeable fortress, neither letting anything in nor out, but instead trapping his thoughts and feelings that he guarded so well. He worried for Oropher, as he had never encountered a soul that was so frozen, so distant and damaged. And nothing could bring the light back into Oropher's heart, he knew.

Even though Galion knew Oropher's past, the knowledge of all those trials did little to help him reach out to his king. But still Oropher seemed to find comfort with his presence, often having him silently stand on by his side. Galion understood it not, but he gave his all to his service to Oropher, as he was grateful to play what little part he could to his great king.

Always he had done his best to serve him, and he frowned with thinking of the betrayal he had given to Oropher the last couple of days; of the keeping of the knowledge of how Glorfindel had slipped from their halls and his part in it from Oropher. It pained him to be deceitful to him. But he knew that Oropher already knew about Thranduil's infatuation with Glorfindel. Galion wasn't even sure he truly knew just how deep it ran. But somehow there seemed to be a strange link between the two, as if they were meant to meet. Somehow Galion and even Oropher could tell that the fates had meant for them to come together despite the circumstance that held them apart. Oropher's will was not always absolute, and Galion knew this troubled Oropher more than it should have.

"Sire?"

Again his voice rang out, breaking the silence but only briefly. His word rolled within the room, moving beyond the still king, out into the forest where it was enfolded within the outstretched arms of the trees. Galion wondered if he should leave Oropher's side as it was evident that he seemed little interested in leaving his own thoughts this very early day. And Galion shuffled, unable to break the uncomfortable silence that troubled him now so.

"Have you came with news on Thranduil?" Oropher's voice was no stronger than a sigh, and even more detached than his unmoving figure that refused to turn from the wide open window that opened up to the still dark forest.

"Yes, my lord." Galion spoke, holding his spot close to the door, instead of moving further into the room. Oropher's uninterested tone was not inviting, and Galion was not so sure his presence was wanted.

"If the news were not good, you would have stated it already." Oropher's tone made it clear that he really did not feel like speaking in these early hours of this new day. "I already know that the poison has left his system, and he grows stronger in his rest."

"The healers intend to keep him in their midst at least for the rest of the day." Galion added, use to the seemingly callus mannerisms of his Lord. But Galion doubted not the deep love that Oropher had for his son. He sometimes failed to understand the ways in which Oropher displayed those feelings however.

"That is what I had expected." Oropher vacuously replied. "Orcish venom takes time for its after effects to leave the body. What Thranduil really needs to clear from his mind is some other more vile poison."

Galion knew who Oropher referred to, and he found that he completely agreed for once with one his lord's assessments that concerned Thranduil. The infatuation would not do Thranduil any good, and the more it grew for Glorfindel, the more moody Thranduil would only become once Glorfindel finally did leave. Galion knew his friend, and he had never seen such endearment shine from his eyes for another.

'If only….' Galion thought within, and in his own disenchantment that was so different from Oropher's, he turned to leave now. He had heard the disinterest in Oropher's voice and he knew that the king cared little to converse.

But then Oropher's voice suddenly stopped him. "Galion."

Oropher finally turned to face him, rising from the chair he had been seated on. His deep green eyes froze him in his spot, and Galion realized that suddenly like the changing of the wind, Oropher was very now intent to discuss some matters that had crossed his mind. He stepped further into the room, awaiting his words.

"What caused you to aid Glorfindel to slip by the guards and out into the forest?"

"My lord?" Galion tried to play dumb to the question. "It is impossible to move unseen by your guard." He stated the simple truth in the matter.

"Indeed it is, but yet he did. And it was achieved only because of your aid." Oropher walked closer to Galion as he spoke his mind.

"Galion, I ask not because I hold any anger at you. Know you this, had you not acted, and had Glorfindel not been there to stop the attack, the outcome would have been one that would have simply been too horrendous to even imagine."

Oropher let what little gentleness that had not yet been consumed by the cold of his soul reflect out through his eyes to Galion. And Galion watched as that subtle light switched slowly from a gentle gleam to a more forlorn shine that reminded him of the fading of the stars within the morning's dawn. Oropher's sigh that sounded as a lament stirred Galion even more. He was relieved that the patience and wisdom of his king again was exercised. Galion greatly respected Oropher and he should have known better than to think that he could act without Oropher's knowing.

"I just wonder sometimes of the connections and pulls this forest gives her children, and I can only wonder if I may one day come to learn of that deep connection myself."

Galion nodded, although he did not agree at all with Oropher's words. "My king, you are very much a part of this forest or her children would have never looked to you to lead us. The fates would have never pulled you here, and the Greenwood would have ensured that you would have never found us. For we have stayed hidden within her arms throughout the ages, and we can stay hidden to those we would never accept. But the forest led you to us. You are our king. The forest will send her children to commune with you, and we will be your ears and your eyes, for it is certain to me that in these trying times, you are the one who can lead us through the coming storm."

Oropher smiled his appreciation to Galion's words. Once again Galion had eased his soul and silenced his own demons. "You may spend your day tending to Thranduil, Galion. Guard his sleep, keep him company, if you so wish. Please do not see to your usual duties today however. I will have someone else relieve you for the day."

Galion nodded, smiling within. Oropher's words brought him elation and he respectfully inclined his head before he turned to leave Oropher. He moved swiftly through the corridors, wondering if it was still too early yet in this new morning to inquire with the healers to visit with Thranduil. He looked out one of the windows, and frowned when he saw that the dawn still had not broken. The forest was still wrapped within the fogs of the unfolding daybreak. The healers still would only send him away in these still too early hours before the morning.

He needed patience now, and patience was something that Galion was very good at exercising.


	9. This Is Madness

Galion had passed the early morning hours alone in his chambers. He had leisurely bathed, and then had dressed in his usual tunic and leggings. The hours could not pass quickly enough, and he waited in an uncharacteristic impatience for the time when he could go to see his friend. It was still far too early for him to even think about visiting Thranduil, and he was fidgety. He neither wanted to sit nor stand, so he paced the length of his room. Back and forth, he walked the short distance that spanned from wall to wall within his chamber. He thought about his day, and just how much longer he had to wait while he paced. The healers ran a tight schedule, and only allowed visiting after the breakfast hour. Galion frowned. Breakfast was still an hour or so away.

His annoyance of the slowly progressing dawn had finally festered to a tipping point, and Galion sighed loudly, finally letting his frustrations out to the emptiness of his room. He tried relaxing on his bed, hoping the comfortable and soft blankets would change his current state. His mood now was so uncharacteristic, but then again, the last week had been so unusual. He ran through the events; the arrival of Glorfindel into their realm, the attacks by the orcs, Thranduil's brush with mortality, it all put Galion on edge. He was anxious, as if he had absorbed the worry that had burdened Oropher. It was hard not to adopt those feelings, for the night that had just passed had never seemed so grim to Galion before.

Impatience was something that Galion was little use to. He wanted to see Thranduil now, but the rays of Anor had yet to filter through the dense forest. Galion knew this, even though he sat within his windowless room. But he had a deep connection to the land in which he lived, and with this connection, he was sensitive enough to know the changes that comprised a day. The forest still was wrapped in a sunless morning, although he knew that soon the breaking of the dawn would once again transform his home into a land of dim beauty.

Growing tired of his room, Galion rose from his bed. And although he had been relieved from his duties this day, he still found himself walking his usual morning route, not sure what else he could do this very early morning. The other servants within the citadel were just about ready to begin the serving of breakfast. Galion let himself look into the dining hall, noting that Glorfindel was nowhere to be seen. He was a little surprised by Glorfindel's absence, but he didn't let his mind linger too long on the topic before he walked away from the dining hall. Breakfast did not appeal to him this day, so he continued his slow walk that would eventually lead him to the healing wing.

Passing by the grand vistas that opened up to the glades and forest around, Galion could finally see the warming rays of the early sunlight. He smiled, letting the beautiful dawn great him with all its vibrancy and wonder. He could feel his endless patience wain ever more, for he had such a strong desire to see Thranduil this morning. He thought it would be pleasant to watch the sky open up together with Thranduil, and they could behold the vibrant colors that the Valar themselves had painted across the morning sky. But he knew that his entrance would be barred. Soon, however, he knew, he would find himself at the doors at the healing wing, and then those doors would open to him. Soon he would spend his day with Thranduil. Galion was curious for the details of the attack and wondered if it was yet too soon to talk about what had happened to him. It probably was, he concluded.

Perhaps he should instead focus on more positive themes, and use words that would only focus on pleasant and calming topics. It was still so soon from the attack that had almost stolen Thranduil from them. Galion even doubted that he truly wanted to hear of just how dire the situation had been for Thranduil, and maybe Thranduil cared little to discuss that horrid day. No, Galion decided. He would try to bring laughter, joy, and hope to Thranduil to ease the scars that may try to settle into his soul. He just hoped that Thranduil was healed enough for a day of conversation.

Or, he mused more, perhaps Thranduil would want to talk about the attack after all. Galion simply did not know, since he sometimes little understood the curious moods that Thranduil would pull on him, often acting the opposite of what he would have expected. Perhaps he would just let his friend dictate the conversation as he typically did. Galion simply did not know how this new day would find Thranduil's condition to be, and it was with lingering uncertainties and worries, that he walked quickly down the corridors of the citadel.

The healing wing was empty this morning. The only movements in the long corridor were the shadows that danced along the stone floor. The gentle light from the morning sun filtered in through the large windows that spawned the length of the long hall. Galion smiled, seeing that the doors that led to the healing rooms were already opened. He moved quicker down the hall, passing through the open door, anticipating the time he would soon spend with Thranduil.

The healers who worked in this area smiled their greetings when they saw Galion enter. Before he could enter the room where Thranduil rested, the master-healer motioned for him to come over, and she cautioned that Thranduil was still not to be over exerted today, and that his visit could only be short. Galion nodded, a little disappointed that his visit would not get to spawn the entire day, but he understood the words from the healer. He understood that the healing rest was central to his friend's recovery, and the healers would little allow that needed slumber to be disrupted.

He entered quietly into the room, cautiously ensuring that he would not wake or disturb his friend with his intrusion. Thranduil's healing room was empty of any other visitor this early morning. The lone window in the room was open, and it allowed the morning breezes to gently blow in with the fragrant hints of the early summer forest. Galion could smell the dewy ferns and the mossy earth, and fragrant forest flowers, strong with the morning's dew. He inhaled deeply and he felt the good of the Greenwood fill his soul. His heart settled and he let his eyes move to the central bed that took up most of the space in the room.

Thranduil was already awake and his large emerald eyes lit up when he saw his friend enter his room. He was laying still in bed, head propped up with large pillows. Thranduil was quick to smile, despite the bruises and abuse that marked his fair face. The marks were still present, but slowly fading as the day of the attack grew slowly as a memory.

Had Galion entered but just an hour before, he would have been greeted by a different Thranduil. The day had rudely crashed onto him in the early hours, as a great and mighty wave of torment and hurt throughout his body. It was strong enough to tear him from his slumber, throwing him back into the circle of death that beat down around him. He could see the faces of the orcs and he could hear their words of poison. The images were as strong as that day that had seen Glorfindel come to him. His darkest hour had yet to be realized, although he knew it was still waiting for him, somewhere beyond the horizon.

Thranduil had tried to remain strong, and keep his torments to himself. But the sharp hearing of the healers had heard his subtle cries, and they had came to him with their medicine and their concern. Slowly the pain of his healing bruises and wounds were subdued, and the demons in his mind had been dulled. He could no longer hear the vile words of pure hate echoing through his mind. The sedative qualities of the medicine had been effective, and it was with a genuine smile of pleasure that Thranduil could great his friend, for he was glad to have the sweet distraction of a kindred spirit to lift his soul this day.

"Galion!" He let his voice call out to his friend. "How happy are my eyes to see you."

Galion was about to move a chair by the bed to sit on, but Thranduil shook his head no, motioning instead for him to seat himself on the bed. Galion smiled gently at Thranduil, so glad to see that he was awake and with a healthier glow to his skin, and acting just as he had expected him to. He seated himself on the bed, and he minded to be as gentle as he could, careful not to cause any pain to him.

"How are you today?" Galion could see the subtle hints of the lingering pain, reflected within his friend's eyes. Thranduil's usual vibrant and shining eyes gleamed less this day. The usual emerald orbs swam with the torment of what had befallen him, and told Galion all that he needed to know. He almost bit his lips, wishing that he could somehow take all the suffering away from him.

"There is no need to worry for me, Galion. For now I am wrapped within the protective embrace of my father's realm, under the watchful eyes of the Greenwood. I am safe under their guard of my sleep. My body recovers and my mind will only grow more impregnable. I am sorry that you must now see me this way, my friend." Thranduil's words only grew more softer as his words went on.

Despite the almost plea of Thranduil's words, Galion could only shake his head. Thranduil's eyes told him everything, reflecting as the very mirror to his soul. But Galion knew to keep his own strength and not give in to the lament that surged within for Thranduil. He remembered the words from the healer. Tears do not bring the essence of healing. But his tears that gleamed in his eyes were the expressions of his love for Thranduil. They were his darkest confession that he would never speak to anyone.

Thranduil could see the emotions in his friend, although the true extent and meaning he knew Galion was hiding from him. He sighed but just a little, not wanting Galion to shed tears for him, and not wanting him to worry. He was alright, alive, and healing.

"Here we find ourselves again, Galion." Thranduil smiled at him, his exhaustion however, was more evidently etched deep into his face, echoing throughout his entire body.

Galion could remember what incident Thranduil spoke of, and he shook his head as he remembered the details. "True, but that last time it was I who was here recovering, looking up into your face, and you brought me such comfort and hope."

"Next time..." Thranduil tried to joke, but he was suddenly interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

"There better not be a next time Thranduil! "

Galion wasn't sure why he snapped now, raising his voice that crashed with all of his emotions. All he knew was that the betterment of worry had taken over him, and he felt his heart squeeze with a sharp pain that tightened with the thoughts of the uncertain days ahead. He hated to see Thranduil like this. He hated the worry it put him through. He hated knowing what was just around the corner, in which the embrace of death would squeeze them all to silence. He had heard the whispers of war from Oropher, and he had heard it often from Thranduil. It was something that none of them could stop. War was coming, and he knew that Thranduil would have to join Greenwood's army and help lead them away from the safe fold of the forest when the attacks did come. In his worry, his thoughts and emotions were transparently etched across his face.

Thranduil regarded Galion's emotions, but he knew that he could not lie to Galion. He knew he was astute, and knew deep inside of what was on the horizon. The winds of war were already blowing across the lands, and there would be no escape for any of them from it. Isolation would not keep them safe, even if that was what Oropher wanted to believe. The war of future days, which would bring so much death, pained his own soul, like he knew it did for Galion.

"I wish that I could promise a future where every soul in the Greenwood is never touched by tragedy, my friend. But I simply cannot. War is coming. The growing malice is already at our door and we can not look away, for if we do, it will cover us all in its darkness."

Thranduil's words, although grim and serious, dripped heavily with his weariness and he fought to stay awake. He closed his eyes, letting the weight of his eyelids win the battle. The medicine was working fully on his body, and he felt the familiar tugs of his approaching slumber. His body still needed healing and he knew he couldn't fool Galion, whose gentle face and deep brown eyes held such compassion and concern for him. But again he opened his eyes, and he moved his gaze over to Galion, forcing a smile that the other knew was a lie.

Galion knew that Thranduil was exhausted, and again Thranduil closed his eyes, while he pushed out a breath that relayed that the pain from the attack was lingering still. And when Thranduil finally opened his eyes, Galion's own overwhelming concern crashed and squeezed his heart. The green eyes told him just how hurt Thranduil still was, and the flickering of a subtle grimace conveyed all that he wished to hide. Galion silently chided himself for bringing the worries of war into Thranduil's healing room.

As if the healers could sense that they were needed, two entered. Galion watched as they moved and stirred some herbs into some warm water. One of the healers brought the cup of medicine to Thranduil's lips, and he reached for it, wanting to do it himself. But the healer simply laughed and reminded him to take it easy.

Galion had to agree, and he frowned while he watched Thranduil struggle to stay awake. "

Sleep, Thranduil." Galion pleaded to his friend. "Do not fight what your body wants you to do. Sleep." His words were as soft as he could make them. He had moved his mouth close to Thranduil's ear, whispering his words.

"The body cannot suffer while it is wrapped within its sweet repose. Please let yourself return to that state, and soon, things will get much better. And I will be here to guard your dreams."

With the gentle words and the medicine they gave him, Thranduil gave in, surrendering to the fight, and he slowly drifted to sleep.

"Galion." The master-healer turned her attention to him now. "You need to let him rest now. And while he rests, we simply can not allow you to remain in these rooms."

"When can he leave the healing wing? Maybe he could recuperate in his own rooms?"

"Our king has requested that he stay here until he is healed. He believes that Thranduil would find more rest here, and I also agree. Now go tell our king that his son grows stronger."

Galion looked at Thranduil who was already deep in slumber. He was satisfied when he saw just how peaceful his face seemed, so he turned and left the room. The day still had many hours and Galion was little certain how to spend the remainder of his day. The beauty of the forest, so illuminated with the warm rays of the summer sun, pulled Galion's eyes to behold the Greenwood's splendor. Galion smiled, and he continued to stare out the window, knowing that he wanted to spend the rest of his day in communion with his forest home after he paid Oropher a visit.

\----------

The night that had passed seemed the slowest ever, and the breaking morning was just the same. Glorfindel had been left alone this morning. There had been no knocks on his door, nor any requests for his time today. He had not cared to dine at breakfast, since he was little interested in the idea of being amongst the Greenwood elves. He simply did not care to endure any further looks, even if they were to look on him more favorably for his heroic actions.

His thoughts meandered from his own anxiety, to something else that pulled more strongly at his heart. He knew better than to worry for the time of danger had long sense passed. But with the promised update on Thranduil's conditions being kept and guarded from him, his thoughts could not break free from the worry. Glorfindel could not deny where the emotions of his heart guided him now. Those strong emotions caused him to leave his room.

Thranduil.

Glorfindel left his chambers, and moved through the winding and maddening halls that meandered for no apparent reason, around and long, up some steps, then down some more, turning as if a manifestation of the very insanity of Oropher's tormented mind. The citadel made him dizzy at times, and today the exasperating design completely overwhelmed him. The corridors were like a labyrinth, winding and sometimes looping, as if they were a personification of Oropher's inner madness. It was all so exasperating, and Glorfindel expressed his annoyance aloud, slightly cursing Oropher. He missed Thranduil's calming presence and hadn't realized just how soothing to his own frustrations Thranduil had often been for him. He needed to see him today, still curious with how he was progressing in his healing.

Glorfindel stopped, suddenly realizing the one small detail that he had failed to address before he set out to find Thranduil. Although he had an idea as to which direction Thranduil had been taken to at their departure the day before, he had no idea where the healing wing actually was. With all the enthusiasm and detail Thranduil had shared with him about the forest, not he nor even Galion had even once cared to show him around the citadel. Again, this was more likely than not of Oropher's design, who seemingly wanted him to feel lost and confused within the ludicrous design of his halls.

Making a guess, Glorfindel took a corridor to his right. It seemed inviting enough with pillars the size of trees. It's high towering vaulted branches supported the ceiling above. Impressive enough, he thought of the blanched white stones. And as he continued walking, the pillars continued on in this stone-forest design, but as he moved ever forward, the hall changed. Instead of being enclosed by the walls of the citadel, the corridor opened up now into the forest. Giant trees towered around him, and leaf covered vines spilled down around him. He was moving up now, and he heard the sound of flowing water. With wonderment, he realized that he was now on a bridge and a clear forest stream trickled its gentle path below him. Glorfindel shook his head. He felt bewitched, enchanted as if somehow Oropher or the Greenwood was playing with his mind. But he had to remember that Oropher was from Doriath and had lived within Menegroth. Oropher had been born and had been raised within the very definition of enchantment and awe, and had come to accept deception as the comforts of home.

Glorfindel continued his walk, and his feet once again felt the stone surface and not the forest floor he had just left behind. The walls returned, the forest's canopy was lost to him from the ceiling again. Glorfindel smiled at the unexpected within this strange forest fortress, and he turned now to a corridor that took him to his left. This hall, unlike the previous one, had other inhabitants who passed him by. But many also stopped and politely greeted him, showing their gratitude for the saving of their beloved prince. Glorfindel returned the same gestures, a little surprised that the word of his deeds had spread around the citadel. His spirit felt a little lighter, but still, the fact that he was lost within Oropher's halls did nothing to ease his anxiety.

He turned down another corridor, where bright and tall windows flooded the hall with the light of Anor's rays. Glorfindel realized that this part of the citadel was more in the glades within the forest, where the bright sun could bring light and warmth to the rooms in this area. Perhaps he was close to the healing wing, he mused.

"Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel paused, recognizing the voice that belonged to Istuninir, the Lord who lived in the north of the realm. He turned and saw him approaching him from behind. His face was friendly and his eyes smiled in their greeting.

"I was told by our king of what you had done. We are thankful that you were able to stop the attack." His eyes were genuine, reflecting the gratitude he had. "The king is a dear friend of mine, and I know how it feels to almost lose a son. I am glad Oropher did not have to experience anything worse than an injured son. The death of the prince would have been a wound that I am not sure the Greenwood could recover from." He let a smile cross his face now, even though his eyes were grave with the thoughts of what could have been.

"And," He added further, suddenly needing to set things straight. "I must apologize for any unkindness that I displayed towards you on our first meeting. You are deserving of none of the rudeness that I gave to you on our meeting. The madness of that sickness that had consumed the Noldor never held a place in your heart or mind. It is wrong for us to pass our judgement of the sins of others onto you." He stated nothing however of Oropher, if he too would be less critical of him, or if this was simply just his own opinion.

Glorfindel thanked him for his kind words, and assured him that no slight had been taken that day. Istuninir turned to leave, but Glorfindel suddenly stopped him, thinking just now to ask for his aide. "Am I heading in the correct direction to the healing wing?"

Nodding with a slight grin, Istuninir indicated with a turn of his head to the correct direction. Glorfindel thanked him and said his goodbye, before he turned to the correct hall that would take him to Thranduil.

The hall to the healing wing was empty, and silent this late morning. The hall was illuminated by large windows that allowed the forest's beauty to open up, and the hall itself was lit beneath hanging lanterns. Glorfindel liked the light and airy quality and he felt less anxious with the beauty of the forest that he could see through the windows. He noticed that the doors were opened at the end of the hall, and he entered through them.

"Lord Glorfindel." A healer approached him. "How may we be of service to you?"

"Is Thranduil allowed visitors this day, because I wish to see him."

The healer paused, before he finally answered Glorfindel's question. "Unfortunately, I regret to say that our prince will not be having any visitors today. I can tell you that Thranduil is well, but his returning strength is contingent on his full and complete rest. " The young apprentice was under orders from Oropher to keep Glorfindel away, even if he disliked and did not agree with the enmity behind this order.

Glorfindel's face remained placid, and not even his eyes relayed the annoyance from what he had heard. It simply was not fair to the healer to hear the venting of his frustrations. So he simply smiled, and thanked the healer for the update on Thranduil, before he turned back to the hall that he had passed through. Once out of sight from every one around him, he let his face fall into a scowl, feeling his growing 'mood' grow stronger.

\-------

It was not long after Galion had finished talking with Thranduil that he had decided to head out into the forest. He turned now from the window and walked further down the hall. He turned down a corridor and noticed that Glorfindel was standing with a frown on his face in a hall that was adjacent to the healing wing. Galion wanted little to speak to Glorfindel this day, wanting instead to walk the paths of the beautiful forest, alone in silent reflection. But Glorfindel  
approached him, and his fair face showed the dissonance that stormed within his mind, seemingly frustrated once again with the games of Oropher.

"They will not let me enter." Glorfindel stated, his annoyance and anger evident with the sharp tones and the scowl on his face. "Surely your king's command, I would imagine."

Galion nodded. He knew this to be true. Oropher's strong will was like the canopy of the forest itself, shadowing his realm under the might of his will. And unfortunately for Glorfindel, he was still the object of Oropher's disapproval. No heroic act would sway Oropher from thinking less critically of Glorfindel. Galion doubted that Glorfindel could ever dispel the prejudices that Oropher still had for all the Noldor. Despite the bravery of his sword, Glorfindel had still not been deemed worthy from his king.

Glorfindel's gentle blue eyes were today dark with his emotions. The usual sapphire color had deepened to a few shades darker, and his brows furrowed more. He cared not to paint a mask across his face for Galion, since he was perfectly fine with his transparent exasperation of this whole situation.

"Well Galion, I admit I am becoming use to these games for which your king likes to play with me. But what your king fails to realize is that I too can play my own games as well. I am simply not one of his subjects who cowers at his might and authority. I have faced far worse adversaries in my long years, and I mean only of the elvish variety! Oropher is nothing compared to what I have faced."

Glorfindel let his face relax more, now that he had vented just a little. He hated taking his frustrations out on Galion, who had only ever been kind to him. It wasn't fair to him, and Glorfindel noted to calm his fury, and stop with the assault of his words. It simply was not fair for him to lash out at one who had no say with what occurred in these lands. Galion had no part in any of this and did not deserve to shoulder his ire.

He motioned for Galion to follow him, and Galion obliged, intrigued, suddenly wondering what the cryptic words meant that Glorfindel had spoken.

"Your king has tried to have me grow impatient, to crack, to act in a manner that proves he has beaten me into nothing more than a sorry mess of despair. But I have fallen not to his whims, Galion."

Oropher's methods might just work on lesser beings, but he had a will that was just as mighty as Oropher's. And with the refusal of allowing him to see Thranduil, Oropher was close to unleashing an anger in Glorfindel. Still, he was strong enough to subdue the wrath that threatened to burst from within. Anger would little help him in his battle of wits and will against Oropher. And Glorfindel let his thoughts move now to that meeting.

"Tell me, Galion, will your king ever take Thranduil's words to counsel? For our mutual friend understands the storm that reaches for us now."

Galion thought about Glorfindel's question, and he recalled Thranduil's words of war. Those words, that hurt body, and haunted eyes he had seen from his friend crashed in his mind. The more he pondered it all, the more he too began to grasp the gravity of Glorfindel's words and emotions. But he didn't know how to answer Glorfindel's question, so he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Oropher, it seems, would simply let our enemy cover his land, instead of joining an alliance to stop it. What madness drives his isolation, and what ill counsel whispers to him?"

He was mostly speaking to himself, and not so much to Galion at this point. He wasn't surprised that Galion didn't respond, who instead only looked down at his feet. Glorfindel took a deep breath and checked his emotions once more. He decided to change the subject into something other now.

"I thank you for your aid when I most needed it, Galion. If you had not followed your intuition, Thranduil would be dead."

Galion stopped walking now, and his eyes went wide with wonder. "Just how dire was what you came on? I have not really heard a detailed report of what occurred."

"I will spare you those details, because I can not bear to recount what could have been." Glorfindel closed his eyes at the horrid memory of that day. Although Thranduil was well, the stroke of death had still been far too close, and he really did not care to relive what could have been. Instead, he felt a sinking sadness that threatened to pull him down into one of his moods. This was something that he did not want, and he little felt like conversing any longer.

Galion could understand the emotions that drove his words, and he felt his heart sink, despite the safety Thranduil had now. He watched as Glorfindel moved his head in a sign of departure, and turned away, descending quickly back towards his chambers. He wondered what suddenly had caused him to no longer want to speak, since it had been Glorfindel who had pulled him over for conversation. Perhaps it was the wave of emotions that had hit him, or perhaps he simply had other things to tend to. Whatever it was, Galion did not care to call after Glorfindel, instead respecting his wishes as he walked away. There was still time for him to walk the forest, and he turned to carry out his original plan before Glorfindel had interrupted him.

\-------------

The next day came to the Greenwood with the arrival of dark storm clouds and a steady rain that fell in bouts of violent downpours. The showers would fall hard and without break, and would then shift to gentle showers. Back and forth, the intensity of the rain would change, sometimes with slow progression and at other times with quick interludes. The thunder would echo its vibrations throughout the forest and within the numerous rooms of the citadel. The lightning would burst with its flashes, briefly illuminating the forest realm. The one constant that had been present this day, was that the rain would not relent. All through the morning the storm had cast its beautiful music throughout the forest. Raindrops echoed with a heavy sound, beating against the panes of the window like tapping fingers in Thranduil's healing room.

Thranduil had awoken this morning to the sounds of the storm, and the flashes of his own violent dreams and memories. Echoes of those vile words resounded in his mind. The absence of light within the room was like a distant memory of his own dark dreams and the day of his attack. The memories were oppressive to his senses, overwhelming his entire consciousness. Growls of the orcs replaced the thunder, flashes of the pain ripped through him like the lightning that lit the room. The darkness that blanketed his room was like the vast reaches of the coming war over the lands, as encompassing and oppressive as a starless night sky.

"Kill him!" Reverberated through his mind, but the echoing of the thunder silenced his own inner demons, pulling his mind briefly from his flashbacks. He knew the poison had left his body, but the rancor of the orcs' words continued to seep into his mind and soul. Again the words echoed in his mind. Over and over. Kill him. Kill him. No amount of squeezing his eyes shut, nor covering his ears could deaden those words. The grotesque voice was piercing and mighty like the thunder.  
Kill him, kill him began to change to kill them. Kill them all. And that was the message from the orcs. War was coming and the armies of Sauron would sweep through the lands like a great and mighty wave of destruction and death, unstoppable like a devastating flood.

Thranduil closed his eyes, but the onyx eyes of the orcs only grew stronger. They were like a fast approaching shadow that threatened to cover the weakening light. Their words grew only louder, stronger than the thunder that echoed around him. The violent storm that ragged outside could little deaden the savage storm within his own mind. Even though that day had long since passed, the memories of it were just as strong as the day when he had experienced the attack.

The pain was much less now, but the lingering injuries were present still. He knew he was still healing, but he was growing impatient with the time it was taking. Thranduil could feel the cuts and bruises still, but they were nothing compared to the memories that raged within. The flashbacks were violent with their intensity, and the closing of his eyes brought him no relief. He could feel his neck close and his chest tighten as the orcs circled around him. He tried to gasp, to scream, but no sounds escaped his lips, seemingly trapped within his haunted mind.

Opening his eyes, the dim room seemed even more oppressive as if the shadows from his dreams and memories closed in around him. He blinked, once, twice, trying to clear his anxiety, but still, the room was still so grim. He almost couldn't perceive the pounding rain on the window, nor the howling wind that wailed outside with the storm. He was being pulled deeper into his memories, and he could not free himself from the dreadful progression.

Thranduil rose from the bed as if in caution, seemingly convinced that the danger he had faced was just beyond his bed, waiting for him if he took but just a step further into the room. The cool of the floor little resonated in his perception. It was if the room that surrounded him had faded away and the Greenwood's trees now enclosed in on him. But the trees were not the ones that he knew and loved. These trees were twisted, dense, menacing even, as if their crocked branches were reaching out for him. The shadows in his mind were as dark and deep as a great abyss, threatening to pull him down into its endless depths. The day and room were dark, and so was his mind. It was all far too dark. And the rolling thunder and pounding rain could not mute the venomous words that looped in his mind. There was no release from the grip his memories had on him, and they continued to hold him like the strong hands of the orcs.

He fell to his knees on the cold stone floor, holding his neck. His fingers franticly scratched at it, as if trying to remove the moment of time that held his mind captive. Thranduil breathed heavily, and he felt the oppressive circle of orcs close in around him. No. This was not happening. He was not back in the forest where the orcs had almost ended his life. He was safe in his father's halls.

Safe….He closed his eyes and forced himself to listen to the rain that pounded on the window's glass, forcing himself back to the here and now, and away from the terrors of his mind.

Thranduil rose, and seated himself back on the bed, chest pounding with short breaths of panic, sweat beading on his temples. He moved his hands to his face as if his long fingers alone could shield him from the images in his mind. He shouldn't be acting this way. The threat was over and he was safe. He had seen worse horrors in his life, he reminded himself. He breathed slowly, trying to gain control of his emotions and body. The peril was long since over. Glorfindel had made sure of that. Over and over he repeated this in his mind.

Slowly like the long journey of the moon through the night sky, Thranduil's thoughts began to break free from the death like grip of the phantoms that haunted his mind. He breathed more easily now, and the dread that had settled his once pounding heart was replaced by a fragile calm. He understood that the dark of his dreams were simply the unknown uncertainties that he could move to the back of his mind. Even the memories of the attack seemed to disappear with the echoing thunder that shook the room. Thranduil's thoughts were fee from the torment, and his eyes perceived less shadows and dimness in the room. He knew that the day had not grown less darker nor had the faint light from the lanterns intensified. But still, even though the setting had not changed, the gentle peace in his heart spread through his body. Thranduil understood why. His thoughts had now moved to Glorfindel, and once again, Glorfindel was the savior who rescued him from his torment.

Glorfindel had saved him, and had come to him when he needed him most. And his absence was not lost on Thranduil. For the second straight day, Glorfindel had not been to his healing room. Hisabsence weighed more on his mind now than did his flashbacks. Yesterday he had asked the healers if Glorfindel had came by, and their silent dismissal of his question told him all that he needed to know. Oropher was keeping Glorfindel away, and there was nothing he could do to change his father's orders. Ever it was the same, and Thranduil could only sigh. The will of Oropher was the law in the Greenwood, and not even the mighty Glorfindel could break his rule.

Thranduil wondered why his father cared so much about his friendship with Glorfindel. That night, so many days ago, he had seen the all too familiar glare deep in his father's eyes that told him that once again, he had provoked his ire. Oropher had nothing to worry about, for he would never leave his father's side. Glorfindel would eventually go his own way, and he would be left behind in the Greenwood. There was simply little justification as to why Oropher kept Glorfindel away.

Thranduil grew annoyed despite his weakened state. He felt a prisoner in his own home, knowing that he was trapped within this room. Oropher would keep him here and could lock out Glorfindel as long as he wanted. Thranduil seriously wondered if Glorfindel was even a guest of the Greenwood any longer. He wouldn't be surprised if Oropher had already sent Glorfindel away, refusing to meet with him for the discussions of the alliance. A frown covered his face and he leaned back onto the pillows, silver-hair spilled around him like the fragmentations of his worried thoughts that haunted him this day.

In his absentmindedness, he sighed loudly, letting his exasperation out into the room and the storm beyond. The shadows slowly retreated, recoiling back into the crevices of his mind, and he let his eyes focus on a healer who had entered into the room. The room seemed more still now, brighter, even though the storm continued on outside with a mighty ferocity. The healer came closer to Thranduil and he had a smile on his face and carried with him a tray of food and drink. With the grey of the day caused by the oppressive storm clouds, Thranduil had little realized just how much time had passed. It was already time for the midday meal. He had not had any breakfast, but he had no hunger now. Through lidded eyes and silent lips he watched the healer move closer to him.

"And how are you doing?" The healer asked while he sat the tray onto a table nearby the bed. His quick and nimble hands mixed a pack of herbs into a steaming cup of water.

Thranduil returned the smile before he answered. He little felt like talking to the healer this day, but he managed to utter a few kind words of gratitude and on his improving condition. The healer seemed to understand his emotions and did his best not to impose himself too much on Thranduil while he finished the work he was required to do. He arranged the food for Thranduil and finished mixing the medicines that were needed. Thranduil could tell from his experience that the medicine would calm his nerves and settle his mind. He accepted the streaming brew and drank it down, knowing that a still mind and body was needed for his healing.

The healer departed and the storm grew less angry with its more passive showers. Thranduil little wanted to eat, so he instead leaned back into the soft pillows as he once had, and closed his eyes. The constant beating on the glass from the rain created a sort of rhythmic cadence that kept his mind from drifting back into the dark of his memories. He was grateful that he stayed in the present instead of being thrown back into the not so distant past that threatened to haunt him. He did not want those dark dreams to find him anymore this day.

His mind was peaceful now and his body seemed to tether on the cusp of perception and with that of dream. Sleep he did not want, for the hours of reverie were better left to the dark of night and not to this day. He had questions and in slumber, no visitation would be granted to him. He expected Galion to come at some point and was looking forward to his friend's visit. But despite his want, his eyes fluttered, closing and shutting while he fought to keep them open.

The heavy clouds poured mightier now. Their heavy laden masses were content to drown the forest below them. And Thranduil forced his eyes more open, keeping himself from the strong embraces of reverie. He yawned in his hazy state and he drank the cup of tea that had been left for him. He smiled, enjoying the warm and soothing qualities of the medicinal tea.

Feeling renewed energy, Thranduil rose once more, and moved to drink his tea on a chair by the window, content now to watch the storm. The rain water clung to the glass and created a distorted picture of the landscape beyond. There was only an impression of a forest to his eyes, shadowy greens and browns all blurred together. Almost like a dream, Thranduil thought, as if somehow all of the events from the past few days were nothing more than a strange illusion. He reached out and touched the glass. It was cool to his touch, and his warm fingers left imprints on the windowpane that were slow to fade when he withdrew his hand.

How long was this day in which he found himself paused to only wonder and reflect? And was the day even longer for Glorfindel? In his less anxious state, Thranduil was able to think clearer now, and he doubted that the meeting had taken place yet, and guessed that Glorfindel was still lingering in his father's halls. Glorfindel was probably even more isolated than he was, and the thoughtful pondering that had covered his face completely faded into a blank expression of void emotion.

The door opened slowly, and Thranduil turned his head to see Galion enter. A smile replaced the once placid expression on his face. Thranduil was pleased that his friend had now came to rescue him from the solitude that had marked his day.

"I apologize for my delay." Galion brought a chair by Thranduil and seated himself down slowly. "I was delayed with some urgent tasks from the king."

Thranduil put down the tea, anxious by Galion's words. "Does my father prepare for the meeting with Glorfindel?"

Galion shook his head. "No, not for the meeting. That is all that I may I answer about your inquiry. I have not been given the liberty to disclose the details of my tasks."

Galion was a little surprised that Thranduil did not inquire on his cryptic words, but his friend seemed little interested. Thranduil was a little distant this day, obviously medicated, and wrapped within his weariness. Galion knew that he was staring and scrutinizing Thranduil, so he moved his gaze. His eyes landed on a table near the bed, and he looked with disapproval of the untouched tray of food. He knew better than to mention this to Thranduil who would only ignore his words anyways.

"But the Lord Glorfindel does still remain?"

Thranduil was slow to respond, and he frowned a little with his question. His heart seemed to stop in his worry that Glorfindel had already departed the Greenwood. The sting of the ache in his heart was worrisome, as if an empty void had stifled it, rendering it almost to a stop. The sharp longing was not as bothersome as it could have been however, because the strong effects of the sedative medicine had dulled his contemplation on the matter. But still, his eyes must have given away what truly dwelled deep in the caverns of his heart, because Galion's clear brown eyes regarded him with an almost knowing look, and his smile that painted his face expressed this knowing as well.

"The Lord Glorfindel does still wait for that meeting and does so with the worry of your wellbeing." Galion paused and he watched the subtle signs of unease that were impressed on Thranduil's face. Thranduil smiled and his green eyes grew brighter at hearing his words.

"Will you bring word to Glorfindel? Please tell him I am well. And let him know that quickly does my strength return." Thranduil leaned closer to Galion, after he saw that his friend nodded in agreement. "I will try my best to convince my father to relent his stance on this forced division because I find it wrong, and in poor taste to impose this on the one who saved my life." Thranduil's tones were hard with his irritation and he moved back into his chair.

Galion nodded, agreeing to deliver Thranduil's message. Deep within, he doubted that Oropher would ever relent. He knew Oropher's true intentions and he understood that the main goal was to remove Glorfindel as soon as possible from the realm. It was both cruel and wonderful all at the same time. Galion knew that Thranduil's infatuation with Glorfindel could only be fleeting, but the emotions that gleamed in his friend's green eyes were worrisome. Galion thought it strange that Thranduil could yearn so much for something that was so fleeting. Glorfindel was not part of the Greenwood, and he understood Oropher's caution. This infatuation was dangerous, and threatened Thranduil's connection to the forest itself. It was best for Glorfindel to leave as soon as possible.

And Galion even felt a surge in his heart that he should inform Oropher of just how much Thranduil yearned for Glorfindel. But Galion knew that Oropher already had learned of this truth himself. And Galion grew curious and more bold, wondering if Oropher's assessment of what had led Glorfindel out into the forest held any truth.

"You did not mention by word or by clue to Glorfindel of your task that took you to the south-lands?"

Thranduil shook his head. "I told Glorfindel not because the focus on the meeting of alliance was all that should have been on his mind that day. It was not I who whispered in the shadows to Glorfindel that day. I know the Greenwood communes with him and he is privy to her secrets. I am surprised and a little disappointed with you Galion, that the poison of Oropher's words would have caused you to doubt what you know is truth."

Galion's eyes went down, and his gaze fell on his folded hands. He knew his false accusation of Glorfindel stemmed from his own subdued desires, and that is what had caused him to believe Oropher's words.

"Galion." Thranduil's warm but tired voice pulled his gaze back up with the gentleness of his caring. "It is easy to become ensnarled within Oropher's will. I as well feel like a shadow sometimes, fading behind his vibrant light."

Thranduil's voice quivered like a solitary leaf clinging to a long and crooked branch in the mighty wind. He was exhausted, Galion realized, and he knew he should really force Thranduil to eat. But his boldness had evaporated in his shame, as he was still lingering on Thranduil's statement to him.

Thranduil, more overwhelmed in his weariness, moved back to his bed and stretched out long onto it. His green eyes, showing the effects of healing fatigue, still smiled to Galion with the gentleness of a good friend.

"How does your day end Galion?" Thranduil asked, curious of his duties.

"I again have been given the day off. My one task was the aforementioned one and that has long since been completed. And with these persistent rain storms, I dare not venture into the Greenwood. It is a most peculiar situation does one find themselves in, when one has been granted such leisure, and idleness is never ones norm."

"Leisure does not always have to equate idleness, if the one who has been granted this gift has a sense of imagination or adventure." Thranduil seemed to challenge Galion, wanting him to take control of his life and make things happen, instead of waiting for fate to simply find him.

Galion could only smile, understanding the meaning of Thranduil's words. But he was not one to seize life by its preverbal collar. Instead he much preferred to sit back and let life happen around and to him. And that was his chief problem, Galion heard his inner thoughts crash within his heart. This inherent flaw was exactly why he had a growing hatred for Glorfindel, and a stinging yearning for one who would never cast his eyes nor want on him.

"You should eat. You should not let yourself fall into a weaker state." Galion decided to state what he had been wanting to say to Thranduil. He knew his words would change the subject, which was something he really wanted now. He never felt comfortable speaking on topics that revolved around wants or desires, and he was astute enough to know that this was where Thranduil's thoughts would eventually lead them to.

Thranduil did not respond, and only shook his head. His stomach was in knots, and hunger was the last thing that bothered him. The thought of taking food seemed more trouble than what it would be worth. The rhythmic rain was unnerving to him now, and the medicines that had once relaxed him were weakening. He felt the want of conversation grow less appealing to him. He moved his gaze away from Galion, and turned on his side further into his pillow.

To Galion, Thranduil seemed much more paler in his weariness. He felt a mixture of guilt and of relief that in his weakened state, Thranduil was easily deterred from the topic that would have commenced. Galion always did his best to avoid topics that might lead to the discussion of desire or attraction. He simply felt uncomfortable discussing such things to Thranduil, as he was afraid that Thranduil would come to learn of his true desires.

Galion moved closer to Thranduil, concerned with his posture he was in. In his worry, he seated himself on the edge of the bed, and leaned down closer to him.

"Should I call for a healer? Are you in pain?"

"No."

"Should I leave you to rest, my friend?"

Thranduil moved his gaze into Galion's caring brown eyes. The calming effects of the tea was wearing off, and he simply did not want Galion to witness his weakness. Galion needed to go now. He smiled to his friend, grateful for his concern, but he cared not to burden him further with worry. Thranduil finally responded in a solemn whisper.

"Yes."

Alarm struck Galion, but he stood all the same, respecting Thranduil's wishes. He already knew that the coming of afternoon was closing in on their forest home. The rain still fell with a steady cadence, and Galion's heart felt as heavy as the soaked earth that the storms had saturated.

"If you would like my company later, please just send for me." Galion said. "May peaceful dreams find you."

Galion looked back one last time, but Thranduil had already closed his eyes and had not responded, so he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

\-----------------

The rain storms had continued throughout the day, and now that night had taken its place in the day's closing hours, the rain kept falling. Glorfindel sat perched by the window in his room, letting his eyes watch the rain that hit the glass. Once again, Glorfindel's request to see Thranduil had been denied. He had expected as much, but still, he had to enquire. And when he had learned what he had already expected, he had only just turned and retreated back to his rooms. The day's relentless storms had kept him inside, basically confined to his room. And alone and isolated within his chambers, he had received not a word of Thranduil's condition. With disenchantment he had kept himself almost locked away within the confines of his room.

The rainy day did little to settle his frustrated mood. Usually he could appreciate the beauty that was found within storms, but not so much this day. Oropher's cruel use of isolation was effective with its disenchantment of his soul, causing him to feel irritation and unease beyond his control. He felt weary, almost detached from the fire of his fight to plead alliance. This was exactly what Oropher wanted, and Glorfindel could smile as he realized that Oropher was using the situation of Thranduil's recovery to his full advantage to play games with him.

And Glorfindel had to admit, that Oropher's grand design did have its ill effects on his mood. It was best for him to stay enclosed within his rooms and away from those who just might cause him more frustration. He felt his control faltering at points this day, and he had spent some of his time fantasizing about how he might unleash his full fury on Oropher. But this was not what his mission called for. He had been sent because he knew he was one of the few people who could withstand the mind-games that Oropher was puling on him.

Erestor would have snapped by now, and Glorfindel mused that he would have thrown the documents in Oropher's face before he made his hasty departure from the forest on his own occurred. And Elrond probably wouldn't have fared much better. Glorfindel laughed while he imagined Elrond demanding an audience with Oropher and shadowing him with his non-stop speech about the rising threat of evil, while he repeated the word doom over and over to Oropher. Oropher would have probably personally escorted him out of the realm, all the while cursing the meddling Noldor.

No, Glorfindel could not react in the way that Oropher was trying his best to elicit from him. It was best for him to pause, and to react in the opposite manner for which Oropher expected of him. In his wisdom, Glorfindel had used this time to his advantage. He had re-read the documents that Gil-galad had composed regarding the justification for action. Glorfindel hardly thought that the High- King had needed to prepare such documents, for the evils of the Dark Lord would have been known to Oropher. But still, the more evidence he could present would only help his cause, so Glorfindel had spent his day reviewing the documents.

All the accounts of the horrors that Sauron had committed were greatly terrible and heartbreaking. But Glorfindel had felt his heart almost stop beating when he had read about the destructive attacks on Eregion. Elrond had cautioned that perhaps this event should briefly be covered, for he worried that Oropher would only use the befriending of Sauron as an excuse to deny the answer of alliance. But Glorfindel thought the inclusion of the horrors of the war should be illustrated in the council, because the pain and suffering of the elves would surely resonate with those that lived here.

Let it be a lesson, Glorfindel thought, of the folly of ignoring the words and wisdom of others. And Glorfindel could liken the two situations that he reflected on. The Greenwood needed to unite in this alliance to preserve their peace. Maybe his words of the utter heartache that befell the elves there would finally pierce through the impermeable stubbornness of the Greenwood King. But Glorfindel knew not. Perhaps Oropher would only gloat at their misfortunes and suffering. He simply did not know.

And in his unknowing, Glorfindel walked to his bed and stretched across it lazily. The storm that had spawned the entire day slowly began to lose its muster. The once steady rain fell gently now, and wained as if the once heavy clouds had finally dropped their final tears. Glorfindel listened to the now silent night, and could only hear the rain water fall from the leaves, dripping like shards of ringing chimes. The forest night now made a different symphony and Glorfindel let his entire perception listen to the sedative sounds. The night was so very peaceful, and he mindfully allowed the serenity to further settle his frayed nerves that had resulted from the long and isolated days.

\---------------------

Oropher had sat for a few hours in this early morning within his son's room. Thranduil had been released to his own chambers just before the rain had stopped last night, and now that a new day had greeted the forest, he was still in slumber, not yet ready to rise with the coming morning. Sleep still called to him and Oropher wondered if perhaps Thranduil had been released too soon.

He watched his son's peaceful slumber, glad that his words had brought comfort to Thranduil. When he had first entered, Thranduil had been breathing heavily, with perspiration on his brow. Oropher had whispered to him with soothing words, and he had placed his gentle hand across Thranduil's temples. His words and presence had done the trick, for Thranduil's breathing had steadied and his whole body had relaxed.

The decision to guard his son's sleep this morning had not been an easy choice for Oropher. He had much to attend to, since his work and worry never truly found an end. But this day would be different however. Today he would truly reflect and speak with Thranduil now that he seemed better healed and better equipped to answer the questions that he sought this day.

There was so much that he wished to inquire on, and Oropher let the topics filter through his mind. He still wanted to know what truly had delayed him on the day of his attack. Were Glorfindel's and Galion's assessment of the forest's vision correct, or had Thranduil told Glorfindel where his duties had led him. Then there was the attack itself. And he wondered as well what had occurred in the forest, what had Thranduil seen or learned that had yet to be disclosed to him. The days that had passed him since he had learned of the attack had done so with these constant questions. Oropher hated not knowing, but he wanted Thranduil to grow stronger before he conversed with him.

And also, there was another topic he wished to speak on. Soon they would be receiving some important guests to their realm. Oropher knew his son's mood would lighten when the guests that were coming would arrive. He just needed to make sure that the dreaded Glorfindel had long departed before they would arrive. Oropher smiled to himself thinking over his plans. Perhaps he would not discuss it just yet with Thranduil, but should instead keep it as a surprise. He would have to gage this morning's topics on just how much Thranduil could handle before he presented him with too much information.

The gentle light that filtered through the window conveyed that the morning was growing later, but still Thranduil did not wake. Oropher could hear the melodic songs from the forest's birds and the rustling of the countless leaves. It was all so calming and peaceful, this silent pause he found himself frozen in. He moved closer to the open window, taking in the sights of the Greenwood from Thranduil's room. The forest's vista here was breathtaking, and rivaled only the views he had from his own private chambers. Magnificent, he thought to himself, fully in awe once again at the beauty of the forest. Even as the years rolled on with his dwelling here, Oropher had never once grown tired of his beautiful forest home.

A slight noise came from the bed, and Oropher turned to see Thranduil's eyes blink into awareness, as he finally realized that he was not alone in his room.

"Father?" Thranduil questioned while he continued to blink his eyes into awareness. He sat up in his bed, and kept his gaze on Oropher.

Oropher moved closer to Thranduil, away from the open window. He let a smile cross his face, and in his gentleness, he let his genuine care for his son reflect on his features. "I am glad to see you looking so much better than when last I saw you. Tell me, how do you feel this new morning?"

Thranduil stretched a little and he let the lingering tugs of sleep leave his core. He noticed the absence of the pain he had been feeling. His body did not hurt nor ache, but he could still feel the bandages that hid his tormenting memories. And he was pleased to have woken without the overwhelming memories that haunted him. His father's presence must have calmed him in his sleep, and he smiled within, a little shocked to find his father here with him on his waking.

"I am doing better." He stated, simply not caring too much to elaborate on his condition. He wasn't even entirely sure just how much strength he had regained, and he was intent on testing the limits of his body.

He moved his feet from underneath the blankets and onto the stone floor. Before he lifted himself to stand, he looked into his father's face, who smiled, as if using his own will to help him stand. He rose from the bed, and moved to a small table in his room. A breakfast had been placed for him there, and the warm tea beaconed to him. With his usual grace, he seated himself at the table, and smiled when he saw that Oropher had seat himself across from him. His father's breakfast plate as well was set, and Thranduil was a little surprised that he had waited to dine with him. He was glad, since he rarely ever got to take his breakfast with his father.

"I see your strength has returned, and you do look much better. The abuse is but a faint impression on your body. But how is your mind? When I entered, your dreams were dark." Oropher let his worry resonate to Thranduil.

"That is nothing." Thranduil lied. He knew that Oropher was very displeased when any weakness was displayed. Emotions and fears were a sign of weakness to his father, and he had been told for most of his life to detach himself from those things which could cause him to falter. A fearful mind was the worse kind of weakness, so Thranduil tried to seem resolute.

Oropher only raised an eyebrow, and let his harsh green eyes demand the truth. Thranduil sighed. There was no fooling the mighty King of Greenwood.

"The memories of the attack have merged with the dark of my dreams. Together they turn in my mind and manifest in my slumber. The images are so real, and I can still hear the orcs' words. I can still feel their utter hatred of our kind. It is if they imbedded their want of our doom into my soul and that dread just will not leave me." Thranduil's hand shook as he confessed what bothered him to his father, and he clumsily placed his cup onto the table.

Oropher for his part, kept his silence, and only preceded to continue eating his breakfast. But he let his eyes relay his thoughts to Thranduil, who he knew could decipher all that went through his opened mind. The price of living was to fall into the depths of turmoil, for such trials were needed to appreciate the good that came with life. And although Thranduil had experienced the cruel forces that drove their world, he had quickly recovered in the past. This too would soon become a distant memory, and hopefully would teach Thranduil that to act impulsively could cause so much pain to those around him and to himself. Thranduil simply could not act this way any longer. The winds of war would change their lives once more, and Thranduil was bound more than ever to act as a guardian to their people, and not as a carefree spirit. That life was no longer his to be had, and Oropher's heart felt a piercing deep within that he had only felt just a few times before.

Through the opening of his father's mind to him, Thranduil could pull his thoughts into his own mind. The thoughts were strong in their wisdom, stark however with Oropher's harsh assessment, but Thranduil expected as much. As different as they were, Thranduil could understand the resolve he knew he needed. He would find the strength to be stronger and to somehow let those memories and his dreams fade. The past was not important. It was what was ahead that should have made his heart beat faster and occupy his mind. And with his embarrassment of his weakness, he closed his green eyes. His hunger had gone.

But Oropher too commented on his lack of appetite. 

"You need to eat. Your strength is required by those you would want to protect." Oropher stated with little emotion while he refiled both his and Thranduil's tea glasses. "Eat Thranduil. You are weak, and this is a state that I do not want you lingering in any longer."

Thranduil did not protest, although he still had little hunger. But the breakfast was light and as he started eating, he realized just how hungry his body was for nourishment. The food was delicious and the more he ate, the more he felt his strength return.

Oropher could easily read Thranduil this day, and he knew that he was healed enough to converse about the attack and of how Glorfindel had found him. He saw no reason to delay the questions that he sought answers to.

"What is your take on how Lord Glorfindel was able to find you on the day of your attack?"

Thranduil was able to read between the lines of Oropher's words, understanding that his father wanted to hear from his own lips if he had hinted or even outright told Glorfindel of where he could find him that day. Thranduil mentally sighed, before he began to recount what had occurred. 

"He told me that a vision came to him in a dream in which he saw my death. The vision was so real and moving to him, that he could do no other but heed its warning. And that is the explanation I must believe. Be it from the Valar or from this land, I care not to debate the vision's origin. To settle your own doubt, I say with all truth, that I did not disclose any details, hints, nor clues to Glorfindel as to where my duties had led me that day." Thranduil watched Oropher for an expression, but his father's face remained inscrutable, revealing neither thought, or if he had displeasure. Instead his ageless face was almost as if it were a carved stone, and he did not move, nor did his hard glacial eyes flash with any emotion.

Oropher expected as much from Thranduil, and although he did not like what he heard, he felt no further reason to press for any further details. He did not want to fall into a rage that would be directed towards his still healing son. Instead he decided to press on with his other questions, since he was not too sure how long Thranduil's strength would last.

"What did you learn from your visit with the Woodland men?" Oropher had been told of most of the details and information that had been disclosed from the guards who had gone that day, but still, he was curious to hear those details from Thranduil.

"The attacks from the orcs come in more frequent waves, and with greater force as the seasons go on. They told me that the enemy calls to him men and other foul beasts, and many are answering his call. The sentiment from the woodmen is one of resistance, and they were grateful and in much need of our aid." Thranduil paused and he thought of the token of friendship the man had give him that he was suppose to deliver to Oropher. He hadn't a clue of what had become of it, and it saddened him greatly that he could not complete that task.

"Before I left I had tarried to hear the news from a messenger about the enemy marching on Gondor. By now I am sure the news has came to your knowledge." Thranduil saw his father nod in acknowledgement of this knowing, but he stated nothing more on the subject.

Oropher had no reason to further question Thranduil and he also saw no reason to lecture him about his foolishness for sending the guard on without him. Thranduil had already paid for his mistake that day, and was recovering from the bitter realities of his foolishness. Oropher's heart had stung a little when he had heard Thranduil's words that he had not told Glorfindel how to find him. As much as he wanted to believe that Thranduil was lying, deep within, he knew that his words were true. He would have pondered longer, but Thranduil's gentle and soft voice drew him from his thoughts.

"Father." Thranduil paused and he placed his utensil onto his half-eaten breakfast plate. "I have a request."

He saw his father's curious eyebrow raise, and he continued. "I am grateful to Glorfindel. He saved my life, and I would like to thank him properly. We should have a feast to honor his deeds, deep within the forest. The people here have been down in worry, and the merriment would also help cast off the lingering phantoms that haunt my mind."

Oropher took in Thranduil's words. He did not share Thranduil's opinion that Glorfindel's act warranted the showing of gratification in the forms of a feast. It was a silly eulogization. His gratitude had already been expressed to Glorfindel. But at the same time, he could agree that the celebration of Thranduil's survival did justify the request of feasting. The people who lived in their realm had all worried when they had heard of what had befallen Thranduil, and their concerns and well wishes should be thanked with a feast for them.

And the more Oropher thought about it, the more he started to like the request. A feast before the meeting would be a cruel twist to Glorfindel. They would toast to his valor one night, only to send him back home dejected the next. It would be the drastic switch from a glorious high to a crashing low. And even if Glorfindel had thought that he had gained enough favor, still, his influence would not weaken his own resolve. Oropher nodded, agreeing to Thranduil's request.

"Tomorrow evening, just before the sunset, we will have this feast. I will have Galion see to the details. And you will spend the rest of your day here in rest. If you will feast tomorrow, you still have healing to finish."

Oropher stood to leave, signifying that he no longer wished to speak with Thranduil. Thranduil stood respectfully and watched his father leave. He let a smile cross his face, pleased that Glorfindel would finally get a taste of what hidden treasures the Greenwood had to offer.

\----------------

Anor shone brightly as the day wore on, as if the golden summer sun wanted to extend her warm beams aggressively over the still damp earth to make up for her absence the day before. The forest was humid, but not quite yet uncomfortable, as the later summer months sometimes tended to be. The clear summer sky was void of any clouds, and wide rays of sunlight broke through the forest's canopy, creating almost spotlight effects on the plants that comprised the coppice of Greenwood.

Glorfindel found himself sitting outside in one of the forest's gardens, not too far from Oropher's citadel. He was completely tired of his room. But still, even though the scenery had changed, his predicament had not. He was alone, although the buzz of the forest moved on around him. He could hear the insects and the birds moving around him, and from time to time, the forest would rustle her leaves in the soft sway of the summer breezes. The scenery was ever as enchanting and beautiful as the day when he first had set his eyes on it. But still, something was lacking. Something was just not the same. He was not the same, and it was plainly evident why.

But he cared not to think on his emotions, or the tugs of his heart. The garden and forest were simply not enough to enthrall him today, so he walked, strolling down a path that was lined with giant ferns and clover. The fragrant clover should have overwhelmed his senses, as they were so poignant and damp with yesterday's rain showers. But nothing could grab his attention from what was buried deep within, threatening to rise to the surface. He wanted distraction, interaction, anything to this unrelenting isolation. So he walked, as if in trance, meandering down the path, not even caring where it would lead him.

The path led him further from the citadel, and Glorfindel wondered if he should really venture out into the forest alone and without permission. Oropher might get the wrong impression that he was fleeing in his frustrations, and he almost turned to head back. But he didn't, instead he felt a tug to continue to follow the path, so he did, letting it lead him out deeper into a part of the forest that neither Thranduil nor Galion had ever showed him.

He wasn't sure how long he walked, but he guessed the hours must have passed because the forest was transforming around him. The once lush canopy had thinned out, and the sky was not its usual light summer blue, but had turned an almost grey color, and it was sunless. It was only mid-day, but a sort of fog clung to the air. The trees here were wide and mossy, ancient looking, with dark and grey bark, and some had twisted vines draping down them. The vines seemed to reach out for him, moving towards him by the invisible hand of the wind. The trees seemed to close in on him, and although the sky was clear above him, his vision darkened with the dimming forest.

The forest had never seemed sinister to him, but this area almost could pass for something that was other than pleasant. But it wasn't unpleasant. It was just different, stranger. Even the foliage had transformed from lush and green underbrush that was comprised of ferns, and forest flowers, to that of tall siena grasses, coarse and untamed, briars and thorny bushes, void of any green leaves. Some of the trees were barren now, so ancient that leaves they could no longer sprout. They were dead, and instead of whispers, only the screeching wind cried within their hallow cores. Glorfindel paused and listened to the wailing that grew louder in the hallow trees, louder and louder the sounds grew, wailing, crying, crescendoing into a shrill scream.

Glorfindel stopped and looked around him. He felt a pain in his heart and in his head, and he closed his eyes, dropping to the forest floor that was covered in wet and moldy leaves. The aroma of the forest was poignant, overwhelming with the stench of death and decay. This was not the Greenwood he knew. This could not be real. He lowered his head into his hands, long fingers messaging into his temples, trying his best to stop the pressure that was pounding throughout his head. Everything was dark, and the forest was silent. Only the feeling of dread swelled within Glorfindel's mind, filling his heart and stifling his soul.

A song bird called, and he opened his eyes. In shock, he saw that the forest was green and alive again, replacing what he had just witnessed just a few seconds ago. The trees were majestic, grand and tall, with broad emerald leaves. Green and lush foliage surrounded him, and that dread had left his heart. Glorfindel stood as if in a stupor, spinning around, wondering just what sort of sorcery had transported him back to the Greenwood that he knew. He felt uneasy, and he turned, almost sprinting back down the path, back to Oropher's citadel.

He felt in his heart that he had seen what just might come to pass if the alliance failed. Sauron would blanket the land with his eternal night, and the good of life would be stifled, dying and left to rot with its defeat. He thanked the spirit of the forest for giving him this vision, for he felt again a sense of purpose, and that fight to plead alliance he had lost rise within his soul. He had work to do, he needed to prepare. And sulking around all day would little help him accomplish what he needed to do.

\------------------------------

The day that passed was like the changing of a season, slow in its transformation from light to dark. It was comprised of almost everlasting hours, stuck in their stubbornness to turn over to the next. The forest's inhabitants had watched the summer's sun with joyful eyes, almost rejoicing with its warmth and light. And as the day had slowly passed, they watched as Anor refused to sink beneath the horizon, as if the lazy summer day had latched its hold over the forest below.

Besides the almost never ending day, an excitement had also settled in the city. The forest's inhabitants whispered in the long hours of the coming feast. The forest buzzed with anticipation, and excitement. It had been months since they feasted last, at the start of spring, welcoming the season's change as life was budding new again. Galion had recruited a small army to help him prepare for the feast, and they had worked in the planning and logistics, already beginning with the setup and the preparation of food and drink.

But now that the sun was finally setting on the vast forest realm, the preparations had been halted, and the organizers and helpers filtered back to their homes to pass the night. Galion was the last one left in the forest clearing, and he lifted his eyes to the naked night sky above him which shined its star-light with vibrancy above. The night sky was beyond beautiful. The stars caused his heart to swell and he stood gazing in awe.

The calling of an owl, caused him to turn. He sighed, realizing a simple task that he had forgotten to see to this day. Reluctantly he headed back to the citadel, seeking out the one he needed to speak with this night.

\-----------------------

Glorfindel sat wondering just how long this night would be. Would the hours only trickle like a slowly thawing stream, still slightly frozen with the winter's long and cold embrace? These long past days had been a trial to his patience. He had been forgotten, and isolated. Reflecting back within his chambers, he once again had felt his resolve slowly crack.

He understood why not a soul had came to his chambers this day, and why Thranduil stayed away. This was all of Oropher's design, and he faulted not anyone else. He had no doubt that Galion was ever by Thranduil's side, as he should be. And Galion had told him that Thranduil was now well and was simply regaining his strength within his own quarters. Glorfindel had tried to see him when he had learned that Thranduil had been released, only to have been directed away from the stairs that would lead him to Thranduil's chambers.

He understood the actions. It all stemmed back to Oropher. And this was also exactly why Thranduil had not come to him as well. They were still not allowed any contact with each other. Was Thranduil still too weak from his attack to deny or challenge his father's will?

This night, Glorfindel's thoughts were most cruel in the gentle summer haze. The forest was fragrant, and blooming. So serene, but the Greenwood could little penetrate through to his thoughts. The simple truth of the matter was that Glorfindel missed Thranduil. This realization both delighted and caused him great worry. There was simply no future for him here within the Greenwood, and with that thought he was still not sure what caused him to yearn so much for Thranduil. These strengthening pulls he felt for Thranduil caused him concern and confusion. This was becoming so unexpected, and with the frustrations of everything he was experiencing in this forest, he sighed.

Despite the solitude he found himself in, Glorfindel noted to check his outward display of emotions. He needed order, despite the maddening situation he found himself in. But control was something that Glorfindel knew he was simply losing. He felt a heavy sting in his heart caused from the regret of his words that he had said to Galion. As much as he wanted to return the mind games that Oropher was playing with him, he simply cared far too much for Thranduil to use him in a way that would get back at Oropher. Even if this was something that he knew that Thranduil yearned for, a liaison would be far too dangerous for him to embrace.

But what if? Glorfindel thought, and he imagined kissing Thranduil's lips. He imagined holding the other close to him, inhaling his subtle scent, feeling the soft of his skin, and the slight muscles that comprised his lithe body. He imagined exploring that body, eliciting sounds of pleasure from the other that would drive them both further with their wants. He wanted to feel him, to worship him, to draw the other into an undeniable arousal. Glorfindel opened his mouth slightly, breathing deep and he closed his eyes, picturing it further.

But a gentle knock now sounded from his door, and even though he wanted more to indulge in his erotic daydream, the interruption had gained his full attention. Glorfindel should have been glad for a distraction to break this suffocating isolation, but this was simply not so. With little intrigue and a little annoyance, he rose to see who was at his door. Galion's enigmatic face greeted him when he opened it, and Glorfindel was a little slow to smile to him. He invited him in, and as Galion passed him, he could smell that the covered tray he carried contained food.

"Your presence was missed at dinner, and Istuninir requested that I bring your dinner to you." Galion noticed a slight flush on Glorfindel's cheeks, but did not ask what might have caused it. He placed the tray on a desk in the room, and uncovered it to reveal a dinner plate and an already filled goblet of wine.

"Thank you, Galion." He stated and he motioned for Galion to be seated by him. He was a little confused when Galion indicated to him no.

"My Lord, I am busy this night because a feast will be held tomorrow in your honor. Thranduil requested this be done for you, and our king agreed."

Glorfindel didn't even bother to mask his complete intrigue by this news. "A feast." He repeated Galion's words.

"Yes, my lord. Tomorrow night. Someone will guide you to the area in the forest where we will hold this banquet."

"A feast in the forest." Glorfindel repeated again, fully enthralled with the news. He was so engrossed with the thought that he would finally experience a secret of the Greenwood. The frustrations of the last couple of days were all but forgotten, and he smiled.

Galion noticed the complete shift in Glorfindel's demeanor, and he felt glad to know that his words brought ease to him. He knew just how trying isolation can be for someone as extroverted as Glorfindel. To someone like Galion, solitude was a rare but welcome occurrence. He was not sure if he would be able to carry himself with as much grace and poise as Glorfindel had, if it had been he who was put in this situation. Galion decided he would plan a feast befitting the celebration of Glorfindel's valor and of Thranduil's strength. He would ensure that the forest would celebrate and rejoice, and that both Thranduil and Glorfindel would smile and be joyous if just for this one night. Galion wondered, just how long would their feasting be paused while the winds of war ravaged the lands.

Galion knew he had his work cut out for him regarding this last minute celebration. He had already finalized the dishes for the feast with the head cook, and had already instructed the setting be set up with tables, chairs, hanging lanterns and fires. Rustic and organic, their celebration would reflect the forest and echo its natural charm and splendor. He knew they would pull the feast off and he guessed that he could even pull a smile from Oropher. After the days of worry and strife, Galion found he very much wanted Oropher to smile as well. With the hours counting down, Galion knew he needed to depart. He bid Glorfindel farewell and a pleasant night, caring not to stay and converse while Glorfindel ate.

Glorfindel closed his door behind Galion as if to keep his earlier thoughts private and hidden. The news of the feast had really lifted his spirits and he felt as excited as he had when he first had set off for his visit to the Greenwood. Thranduil must have known just how disenchanted he had become these last few days that had seen them kept apart from each other. But now he knew that he would finally be reunited with Thranduil on the night of the feast, and his heart beat faster with his still lingering arousal from his earlier daydream. The evening simply could not pass quickly enough, nor could the next day. But with something different to focus on, Glorfindel was in ease for the first time is days.


	10. Surrender

Daybreak lit the Greenwood under a quickly rising sun, as its warm rays slowly began to encroach over the forest land. The once darkness that had wrapped the forest in its dark greys had easily been transformed by the light of the rising sun. And as the dawn progressed, the sky above the forest awoke from a dim canvas of muddled darkness, to a sky of vibrant colors. Rich oranges, pinks and yellows penetrated through the numerous trees and their light cut through their broad leaves. The powerful rays of Anor set the leaves ablaze in their golden wash, and the leaves reflected this strengthening light, taking on the colors of the sun. The forest's flora seemed more vibrant this day, and the leaves were still against the new day's sun. The fauna of the forest seemed more vocal and active this morning, as if they were excited to greet the coming dawn. And the elves who dwelt in the forest were even more busy than was usual, and they moved with a buzz that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire forest, casting their whispers and laughter far into the depths of the awakening forest realm.

Even before the sun had risen, Galion had been busy with the final preparations for the feast. He had endlessly gone over the details in his mind of what still needed to be completed, and he had checked on everyone to ensure that they had completed the tasks that they were responsible for. And even in the darkness before the sun had risen, he had led his group of helpers out into the forest. They were excited about the day's upcoming events, and couldn't contain their anticipation any longer. Perhaps they were inspired by the beauty of the approaching day that they watched slowly transform their forest home. For this sunrise and dawn was one of the most beautiful they had ever seen, and many simply stood and watched in the forest clearing, much to Galion's annoyance, as the sky took on its many colors, and changing as the dawn moved ever on.

Galion had been working for hours already this new day, and he surveyed his surroundings to see just how much work had been done and what still needed to be completed. So much had already been assembled, but yet, there was still so much for them to do. He shook his head, as he ran the list through his mind once more. The perfectionist in him would never be satisfied, even though he knew that he had planned this feast as best as he could. But still, the hours were winding down and soon the time for the feast would be upon them. He just hoped the hours were slow this day, to allow him to complete the vision he had for the feast that Oropher and Thranduil had called for.

Galion let his eyes scan the sky above in the open glade, and was pleased to see that the early morning sky was clear and free from heavy clouds. There shouldn't be any rain this day, he thought, as he studied the sky more intently. The sky was awash in sweeping oranges, pinks, and yellows as the sun was making its rise into the sky. It would be a beautiful day for the feast, he knew, and he smiled at this variable. The whispers from the still forest foretold of a tranquil day. No breezes stirred the leaves, and the early morning was already warming. It was only the inhabitants of the forest that stirred around him, excitement ringing forth from their lips.

He had tarried long enough he knew, and Galion set back to work, eyeing again all that had been done, while organizing in his head the tasks he would complete in the order he wanted. If everything went according to plan they would be finished with their tasks just around two hours before the feast began. That would give him just enough time to refresh himself, and he smiled.

While Oropher had instructed that it was his responsibility to plan and see that the feast was ready, he had been given the evening off. He would not have to work the night of the feast. Galion was excited, since usually he always had to work their feasts and celebrations. But not this night, and his heart beat with the excitement of anticipation.

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Not everyone in the forest had greeted the day with gladness and with joy. Thranduil had woken before the beautiful sunrise to his dark memories. Even though the day of his attack slowly moved into the distant memories of his past, the emotions that he was left with from that day seemed little to dissipate. No force of his will, or even the passing of the days could free him, it seemed. Again he awoke feeling the chocking grip of his terror squeeze around his thoughts, cutting off his airway. It was an invisible malice, both strong and cruel in his mind, powerful enough to inflict its cruelty in physical manifestations. And he gasped, sitting up in his bed, while he blinked his eyes, trying to make sense of what time and place he was currently in. Was he back there in the Greenwood, or was he safe within his own bed? Was he trapped in the circle of orcs who wished for his death, or was he surrounded by the strong protective citadel of his father? Minutes passed and ticked by, while he was still lost in the night terror. He breathed slowly, and finally, he was able to break free from his memories and he felt a delicate peace come over him.

But still, the hours before the breaking dawn were long and cruel to him. He was alone in these hours, and he tried his best to keep those memories from resurfacing. He felt an emptiness in his heart, and a shadow in his mind. And even though the sun was rising, the clear forest morning remained dim to him. It was no longer the attack that held him in terror, and he understood what vexed him so. An evil had risen, and its sight was on the Greenwood.

What manner of peace could he find, with the knowing of just what reached for them? And as he reflected further, he felt his heart beat faster, his mind spin around, and the orc's words of poison crash within his soul. He tried his best to force his breath to stay steady and calm, and he tried relaxing his body. And with all the will that he had he tried to focus his mind on anything other than those memories. There would be a feast tonight. He would see Glorfindel. He could once again look into those beautiful blue eyes and his face beyond the measure of beauty.

But the panic that he felt began to swell within stronger than ever, and it threatened to burst and pull him back into its dark caverns. Thranduil rose in panic, not wanting to succumb to his terror. He fled his rooms, and ran through the halls of his father's home, caring not to stop with the shouts or concerns of the guards who watched him pass. It didn't take him long to reach Galion's chambers, and he ran in the room, not caring to knock.

But Galion was not in, and Thranduil sank to the stone floor, alone and so close to losing the fight within his mind. The orc's words of destruction and death echoed, reverberating like a twisted chorus. But then another clear and commanding voice cut through his mind. The voice was from his father, and the words were clearer now, and drove away the future that the orcs would try to make come to pass. The strength of their people was mightier than the will of Sauron. Thranduil let his heart and mind believe that Oropher had given him a clue in their talk the day before, that he would join the alliance. Oropher wanted him to be a guardian of the forest, and a soldier in their fight.

Thranduil rose, accepting his father's challenge. And just like the breaking of a dam, his worries and fears had been washed away. He felt only resolve instead of panic, strength instead of worry, and the understanding that his dreams and the warning's from the orcs were not set in stone. It was a future that might come to pass, but the details were so foggy and not clear to him. And he understood that with any future, there was always so many variables that could change as the days moved ever on.

With steady and controlled steps, he went back to his room, ready to start the day. For he knew that this day would bring gladness to him, and the forest would come alive with celebrations and joy. With the tidings of war just on the horizon, Thranduil was not sure just when and if they would ever greet a day again with a feast in place. For the orc's warning may very well be the future he would come to know, and the Greenwood would burn and fade into the bitter ashes of  
defeat.

\-------------

Glorfindel had spent the night in a forced sleep that had lasted only a couple hours. He was not weary, and his heart felt excitement, and with the glad anticipation of finally reuniting with Thranduil once more. He had long been awake before the sun had risen, passing the early hours of the day in watch of the forest. His eyes made out the dark trees, and his ears listened to the nocturnal music of the Greenwood. And with interest and with curiosity, he had watched many of Oropher's people move back and forth from the doors of the citadel as they walked deep into the forest. The inhabitants always took the same path, and Glorfindel guessed that this was the path that would lead to the spot of the feast, deep within the forest.

Now that the morning had broken, and the sun was higher in the sky, Glorfindel decided that he could no longer contain himself. He dressed in his simplest and greenest of garments, and instead of his heavy boots, he wore no shoes, wishing to move as silently as he could through the still dim forest. He had made the journey through the Greenwood, following discretely behind a cook who was carrying a basket of food items. It was only the cook he encountered along the entire trail, and he moved behind him at a sizable distance, making sure to move where he did not ruffle nor disturb the forest coppice below him. His footsteps were silent since he walked over the forest floor gently with his bare feet.

Glorfindel found the spot where the feast would commence, and although he peered behind a broad tree some distance from the spot, he could still see enough of what had been constructed for their celebrations tonight. He was immensely impressed by just how set up the place already was. It was as if Galion and the crew had been working all night, and the more Glorfindel thought about this possibility, the more he knew that Galion probably had.

He watched in the distance as Galion oversaw the details for the feast. He marveled at just how many chairs and tables had been placed in the area, and he expected the whole of the capital to attend. Around the edges of the forest's clearing, canopy covered couches had been placed for lounging or for sitting. The delicate silver fabric rippled in the morning's gentle breezes, so beautiful and delicate looking. Fire pits had been made, and Glorfindel was glad, for he would find a bit of home in this forest setting, recalling his favorite spot in all Imladris; the great burning fire in the Hall of Fire.

Glorfindel moved his eyes more to the open glade, and he saw many barrels of aged wine, and he smiled, for he recalled just how good Oropher's wine tastes were. Next to the barrels were goblets beyond count, and they were all turned down on a long wooden table, rustic, yet touched with the elegance of elven craftsmanship. Behind the goblets were stacked plates and utensils. Above, and strung throughout the trees that circled the forest clearing, were hanging lanterns, numerous, and delicate. Glorfindel could almost imagine how divine the soft glow of the lanterns along with the clear strong moon, and the light of the stars would look upon Thranduil. And he smiled. This night was going to be like no other night.

And with the thought of Thranduil, Glorfindel could feel his heart beat quicker and stronger, and he had to move further behind the tree, for Galion's eyes had moved his way. He steadied his breathing to silence, and he subdued his pounding heart. He heard no footsteps move to him, and after a few moments, he cautiously glanced back to the clearing. Galion was busy with his directions, and had not cared to investigate what he may have heard. And Glorfindel smiled, relieved. But he suddenly felt a little guilt for sneaking an early peak at the feast that was to be held for his honor. He decided now to leave, and pass the hours of the day in some other activity. So he walked away as silently as he had snuck to the spot, minding not to be seen by the busy workers who without pause prepared the feast that would soon commence.

  
\---------------

The day of the feast had passed so slowly, as the wait for the start of dusk was frozen in the cruel and slow beats of time. Glorfindel was not sure just how he had managed to keep his sanity this day, for Thranduil had been impossible to find and Galion had been kept in the busyness of the feast's preparations. So, once again he had found himself caught within his now usual routine of being alone. But the isolation of this day was nothing compared to the aloneness he had felt the last days before. Glorfindel again understood that he had once again had been thrown into the whims of Oropher's intentional madness. Oropher wanted him to crack, but Glorfindel only smiled. Two could play games, and he knew just what it was that would make the stubborn king cringe.

Since Glorfindel had leisure this day, he had spent the afternoon just lounging in the tub. He had requested warm water to be brought, and he had to stifle a laugh at the strange look from the servant whom he had made the request to. Glorfindel had to admit, he would never get tired of the Silvan reactions to him.

While he bathed, he let his thoughts drift to Thranduil, and he could feel his heart yearn with a longing that confused him greatly. He sighed, not so sure if a sweet seduction was in all actuality the correct course of action at this point. He already knew just how much Thranduil wanted to know him, to taste him. He was troubled with not knowing of just how deep this yearning that Thranduil had for him was. Was it simply a need to fulfill a carnal lust or was it something more terrifying with his want for ties?

Glorfindel shuddered. No. He doubted that Thranduil's feelings for him could have developed that quickly and so deeply for him. Surely the yearning that he had seen in his eyes were nothing more than lust. And lust was something that Glorfindel could understand. The more he thought of Thranduil, the more his body seemed to come alive. The warm water had relaxed him, and he had to control the urge to stroke his semi-hardened shaft. Although he could control his body, he little could control his mind, and his thoughts lingered more on just how green and bright Thranduil's eyes were. Green like the bright leaves under a sparkling dew. His mind moved on the planes of the other's face, his high cheek bones, his smooth alabaster skin. And then the silver hair came into his thoughts, and Glorfindel had the sudden urge to run his fingers through it, to feel just how soft and silken the long tresses really were. He didn't even realize that his own fingers were wound around his golden locks, and he breathed heavy in content, as his mind continued to form the image of Thranduil in his mind.

It was such a contrast he felt this day, from the days that had preceded before. Although he found himself alone to pass the hours, he was able to do so with a happy heart. And he minded to ease his mind, and to relax his spirit, for he very much wanted to reunite with Thranduil in a joyful mood. And this feast was just what he needed to once again find his joy.

Glorfindel only rose from the bath after the water had long turned from a tepid warmness to an almost frigid temperature. He took his time drying off, and he took even longer dressing for the feast. In fact, he had lounged on his bed naked, long limbs sprawling out around him. He kept his window open, along with the doors to the balcony and he inhaled the sweet forest fragrances, along with the wonderful aromas that filtered through the corridors of the citadel from the kitchens. Glorfindel understood that the mouthwatering aromas were for the feast tonight, and they only added to his mounting anticipation for the night.

With all the time in the world, and with no haste in mind, he languidly looked over the little clothing he had brought, wondering what he wanted to wear to the celebration this night. The decision was easy, but he still lingered, looking over the clothing, as if there were a real debate when one was not to be had. He picked the best clothes he had packed, and with slow and paused movements, he dressed himself in a light silvery-blue tunic that reached to his knees in the front, and tapered longer in the back, and dark grey legging. He finished the ensemble with his neatly cleaned and polished boots.

He knew this might be one of his last nights in the Greenwood, although he still did not know when the meeting on alliance would proceed. His intuition told him he would find out tonight. He sighed. Finally, and yet again he would be asked to meet. But this time he couldn't think of a reason as to why the meeting would not commence. Thranduil would remain here, and Oropher would have to receive him. And if Glorfindel understood Oropher from what he had read from the other, the mind games would only continue.. A day of pleasure and enjoyment would then turn to a day of strife and debate. The day for the meeting was soon, he knew. He felt it in his heart, and another layer of excitement was added into his mind.

Glorfindel wondered just what other events would unfold deep in the Greenwood's night, under those hanging lanterns and the open star filled night. He moved out to his balcony, and saw the darkening sky. The sun was setting far off into the west, and had already dipped below the forest's canopy, hours ago. The night was settling over the Greenwood in this time of dusk, and Glorfindel smiled. The knocking at his door told him that the time to join the celebration was now.

The walk through the forest was almost otherworldly, the forest seemed enchanted. Soft gleaming lights were cast and the light danced around the trees and on the forest's floor. Lantern's, fireflies, the moon, and the stars all started to intensify as the dusk turned darker into night. And as Glorfindel approached the feasting area, he saw glowing fires and he heard the sounds of a rhythmic music that was much more primeval than what his ears were use to back home in Imladris. The music grew louder and he finally was standing at the feasting area.

Although he had seen the area earlier, the setting had transformed further. There were four great fires lit around the perimeter of the clearing, each set and burning at equal spacing. The firelight was strong, and gave warmth to the cooling night, and it cast an orangish glow on the area. The lanterns that were hanging in the trees were aglow with a soft light of gold. Moonlight peaked above the forest canopy, for Ithil had not yet ascended to her throne in the night sky. Stars were beginning to unveil themselves from the heavens beyond.

Moving his eyes from the sky, Glorfindel saw table after table piled high with plates, and bowls of food, and with drinks of many kinds. Many of Oropher's people were already gathered and they were clustered in small groups, chatting amongst themselves. They were garbed in beautiful garments, and many were richly decorated with shining gems on their belts and collars. When they caught sight of Glorfindel, many politely greeted him, recognizing that he was the guest of honor. He regarded the smiling eyes of all who greeted him with his own kind and gentle smile. Their eyes told him just how enchanting his was, a vision of beauty and finally an honored guest, someone for whom they could greet with praise instead of their usual scorn or distrust. Glorfindel continued to return their greetings with his usual elegance, but he did not approach them, instead he was content to take the setting in, and absorb it all.

He smiled in recognition when he spotted Galion's along with another, whom Glorfindel knew was her husband. The young child was not with them this night, and in happy reunion, he greeted her and was introduced to Galion's brother-in-law. Galion was not yet at the side of his family, and Glorfindel briefly wondered where he may be. The family stayed and chatted briefly with Glorfindel, for they needed to take their places at the tables, since the time to begin was short at hand.

This forest feast was being held in an incredible setting. And the decorations and setting was even more beautiful under the veil of night than what Glorfindel had seen in the light of the day. The music that had once been lively and rhythmic, slowed now and was softer. It echoed like a haunting melody, winding through the forest like a beautiful wind rustling through the leaves. Glorfindel noticed that a hush now feel on the crowd, and the music softened even more. He turned to see that Oropher and Thranduil had arrived, proceeding to the feast through the forest like tall and grave figures, both mighty and both beautiful, although in very contrasting ways. The people politely bowed their heads in respect to their king, and Thranduil walked behind Oropher now, a few steps back. Oropher came to stand at what Glorfindel could see was the outermost and central point of the feast.

Glorfindel's deep blue eyes rested on Thranduil, who stood next to Oropher. He wore a long dark green tunic, with silver threading. His leggings as well were dark and matched his shoes. His hair was unbraided and he wore a thin mithril circlet on his head. The circlet was so delicate, and it was almost lost against his silver hair. Thranduil was simply stunning Glorfindel concluded, although Glorfindel could still make out the subtle signs of fatigue that was etched deep within Thranduil's eyes. The bruises that had marred his face, so many days ago, were but now faint shadows that were almost lost under the night sky. Glorfindel knew that Thranduil was physically healed, but he wondered over the slightly haunted eyes, and he frowned within, realizing that Thranduil was still battling in his recovery.

Thranduil, for his part, kept his gaze set on Glorfindel's deep blue eyes. To Thranduil, there was simply nothing as captivating as those beautiful sapphire eyes. The lights from the fire and the lanterns seemed to make the deep blue eyes swim with emotion, and those eyes tugged at him. But instead of joy, he only felt the empty longing that haunted his soul, for the beauty he found in Glorfindel's eyes would never be known to him. As close as they had become, Glorfindel was only like the sea to him, crashing and calling, but beyond his reach. Those eyes, like Glorfindel, belonged to a world that was not his to have. And despite the mirthful situation, a heavy sadness like a mountain stone had set into his heart. He wanted to move away from Oropher, closer to Glorfindel, but he knew that soon the dinner would start, and he would be on one side of his father, with Glorfindel soon moving to the seat of honor on the other side of Oropher.

Glorfindel knew he was staring at Thranduil, but he simply did not care to move his gaze. The radiance that was before him caused many eyes to look Thranduil's way, and those eyes as well froze in their staring. Glorfindel could feel a familiar presence stand next to him, and he turned his eyes to Galion, and he smiled to him. Galion was subtle with his smile, and seemed to regard him through guarded and questioning eyes. Glorfindel knew that the other had sensed him earlier this morning, and he very much wanted to thank Galion for the care that he had spent with arranging this feast for him. But a hush had fallen over the forest, and Glorfindel did not want to break it. When he turned his gaze back to Galion, the other was gone, and had taken his place amongst his family.

The gathered took their seats, and Glorfindel was directed to take a seat beside Oropher. A hush spread quickly when Oropher alone remained standing. They all knew he was going to speak and all eyes were turned on him. Glorfindel as well turned his attention to Oropher and away from Thranduil, and watched intently, curious to know how the feast would begin.

Oropher opened the feast with his words of gratitude for the collective vigil the people had kept for Thranduil. He toasted to them and thanked them with sincerity. Glorfindel could see that Oropher's eyes reflected just how grateful he was to his people. His next topic moved to Glorfindel, and Oropher's words rang out loudly into the night, clear and ringing with praise. He recounted the heroism and their collective thankfulness and Glorfindel was surprised with just how polite and sincere the accolades were. He then concluded his speech with the offering of the feast as his and Thranduil's offering of thanks to the people and to Glorfindel. And Oropher raised a toast again to the people and for Glorfindel. Glorfindel slowly raised his glass along with everyone else and drank the sweet and dark red liquid.

The serving of food was not needed, because Galion had planned that each plate was to have already been filled with delicious foods, and the goblets were filled with wine. The people were merry and chatted while they ate. Fair voices blended with the music that played from the many minstrels. Oropher did not speak much to Glorfindel at dinner, but instead was content to listen to the songs that were being sang, and he watched the dancing people who had little interest in dining. Glorfindel could hear from time to time that Oropher spoke with Thranduil. His voice was low, as if he spoke in a whisper in the language of those who dwelled here. He understood that Oropher did this to remind him that he was but an outsider, but nothing would dampen his spirits this night, and he mindfully chose to ignore Oropher's actions.

Instead, Glorfindel enjoyed just how delicious the food was, and he sipped the wine, whose quality could not be matched. He little cared that Oropher ignored him, for he instead watched the dance with interest, his own feet moving under the table in mimic of the steps. He very much wanted to join in, but he understood that he needed to keep his place beside Oropher for now. As part of the King's table, he was bound to remain seated until Oropher gave him his leave.

When the dining part of the feast had ended, Oropher then rose from the table, signifying to Thranduil and Glorfindel that they as well were free to leave and do as they wanted. Glorfindel smiled, glad to finally speak to Thranduil. He tried moving to Thranduil, but either by Oropher's design or because of the strong wine and its strange effects on the forest's inhabitants, many of Oropher's people approached him, uninhibited like never before. They were intent with chatting with him, and they crowded him, as if he was a long lost friend who had only just returned to them. Realizing that he could not move to Thranduil at this time, Glorfindel gave into their wants, smiling and listening to them, and he was glad to know that many spoke to him in a tongue that he could understand.

Glorfindel found them all to be friendly and jovial, and their infectious songs and hearts of mirth lightened his own heart. He could understand why Oropher was so cautious and protective of his people. The wood-elves were fun, and they cared not to guard their smiles during times of celebrations. They sang and danced, and were to Glorfindel, the true treasures of the forest. He saw them shine bright like jewels as they danced and sang deep in the forest.

And as the night wore on, many more of Oropher's people surrounded Glorfindel, and they were intent on teaching him their songs. Glorfindel found that he could do little but oblige, and to their delight, he was quick to pick up their ancient words. His voice soon rang out, the melodies flowed within him, and the words suddenly became known to him. He could tell that they were singing ancient songs, from a time long ago, before the Valar had came to their lands. The praise of the arcane forest and of the stars wove in and out with tales of ages that had passed long ago. They were both peaceful and terrible, mighty and mild, joyful but also woeful. The songs were very much like the Greenwood itself, filled with duality. He found he liked the songs and their unusual melodies, that were so very different and strange to what he was use to, yet still very much elven and as such, so very familiar to him.

And after they had sang, the people then bid him to dance with them. The earlier steps he had mimed when he ate, he now danced with them, arms linked in a chain. And together they danced around the forest clearing, through the trees and around the fires, weaving long and merrily. As he danced, Glorfindel was able to catch Thranduil's gaze. Thranduil smiled at him happily, and amusement was painted on his face. But then the dance took a sudden turn, and Glorfindel's eyes were opened to the trees of the forest, and for a while, it was as if an empty void had settled into his heart. The music took on an even livelier beat now, and again he felt joy. Infectious, the melody filled his entire body, and his soul vibrated with the rhythm, but still, his he very much wanted to be at Thranduil's side.

As he continued to dance, Glorfindel could scarcely remember when he had felt so carefree. He was full of strong wine and good music filled his ears. It was almost as if the strife of the world had never penetrated here, and the threat of Sauron was but a distant memory to him, and almost entirely erased from his soul this night. The dance finally ended, and Glorfindel was very thirsty, and he drank deep a goblet of wine that had been handed to him by one of the servers. As he  
drank, his eyes searched out for Thranduil, trying to find him amongst the crowed. He saw many faces with bright eyes, and happy lips that smiled and joyful hands that clapped. But he could not find his friend in the crowd, and he wondered if Thranduil was still here.

Glorfindel's attention was snapped back to the music, and he noticed that the songs they sang turned ever sillier. He wondered if the wine was influencing the music, and he smiled, forgetting his anxiety regarding Thranduil. Their songs praised the punctuality of the night stars, they praised the girth of the trees, they praised the age of the wine, and the lack of hair in the food of the feast. From time to time, they sang of the deeds of Oropher and Thranduil, silly anecdotes that were not disrespectful, but were funny and light hearted. And then they turned the focus of their songs on Glorfindel. Glorfindel smiled wide when he realized that they were singing of the strangeness of his golden-hair, which they compared affectionately to that of dandelions and of butter, and also of his bright blue eyes, which they likened to the sweeping skies of summer, and the stains of wild berries on their white garments.

As the night wore on, the informal feasting continued and some of the dancers now took their seats to indulge in the overflowing tables piled with food and drink. It was as if the food and drink were infinite this night. The music carried on, more subdued now, but it still drifted on through the forest. In this less hectic part of the feast, Glorfindel could finally make out where Thranduil stood. The other was speaking with Galion and his family, and although engaged, he seemed so distant, so troubled, and even though he had healed, Glorfindel could feel that he had changed. His eyes seemed less vibrant, haunted even, and Glorfindel could understand why. Since Thranduil was speaking with his friends, Glorfindel did not want to interrupt their moment together. He seated himself on a chair, and breathed in the fragrant scents of the forest.

Thranduil had caught Glorfindel's eyes and he knew that as the night would wear on, and the flowing wine would almost be exhausted, that he would have his time alone with Glorfindel. But not just yet. The knowing of desires was best experienced when patience was almost exhausted. And although that time was near, it was just not yet. Tonight he would use the forest to weave his spells on Glorfindel and together they would finally know each other truly this night. He felt excitement rise in his heart, and he felt such anticipation that he smiled deep, as if he was trying to seduce Glorfindel with that smile. He grabbed the wine goblet that Galion handed to him, and he ignored the strange look his friend was giving him. He drank from it deeply, as if the sweet nectar would somehow cause everyone else to fade away, leaving just him and the object of his desire alone so he could commence with his plan. But of course, when he tilted the goblet down and opened his eyes to the feast around him, his wish had not been granted. It was just not so, and he could only smile again. Patience was easier practiced when the object of one's desire was not in the mix.

As the night continued to pass, it did so tenderly, with its gentle arms embracing the feasting elves. The breezes were light and infrequent, and brought no cold to the mild night. Laid bare, the vast mantle of the stars twinkled above with their vibrant silver lights, framed by the circle of the dark forest canopy. Beneath the stars, many of Oropher's people gathered and their faces were turned up into the star fields above. And Glorfindel turned his gaze from the stars until they settled back on Thranduil, who was still standing in the midst of many people, although he seemed detached from them. His eyes were downcast, and he seemed to merely listen instead of partaking in the chatter, and when the others would lift their gazes to the stars, Thranduil did not. Thranduil's actions tugged at Glorfindel, who frowned, despite the joyous mirth around him.

Glorfindel's patience was finally exhausted, and he took a step towards Thranduil, but was stopped when Oropher approached him. Of course he thought, thinking that Oropher must have planned to intercept him the moment he moved towards Thranduil.

"I hope this night has been to your liking. From what I have observed, it seems that you have." Oropher's gaze froze Glorfindel, who stopped, and acted his best to be surprised that Oropher would care to make small talk with him.

"My spirit is much lighter and the woes I had felt are now forgotten. I do thank you for the hospitality that has been shown and given to me this day. Your people are delightful, the food was delicious, and the wine superb. The songs have forever imprinted their beautiful melodies onto my heart, and the forest's beauty will forever remain etched into my mind."

Oropher did not comment on the response, and ever being one who preferred to get straight to the point, he moved the topic of conversation on to what suited him now. "Tomorrow we will met at the hour of nine to discuss your King's call for alliance. You shall have your answer soon regarding the Greenwood's position, and then the road home will open up to you."

Glorfindel smiled, but he frowned within, as he thought about just how little time he had left in these lands. He had expected these words, but he did his best to mask this. He watched as Oropher studied him, and when he realized that Glorfindel meant not to respond, he moved his gaze, as if the brightly twinkling stars called to him, demanding his attention. And Oropher seemed to relax, as if he had finally come to accept that he would truly hear and listen to Glorfindel's call for alliance.

There would be no more games, Glorfindel understood from the tones of the words and from Oropher's body language. He decided not to respond to Oropher's statement. Instead, he stood on by Oropher, letting his gaze linger more on him. Oropher seemed to have transformed this night, under the bright stars and the joyful feast. He seemed less cold, with a gentle face, and his eyes were soft and they reflected the star-field night. Instead of the cold harshness that Glorfindel was use to, a subtle light could be seen in those green orbs, but Glorfindel was not sure if the light was from within Oropher, or was instead only a reflection from the silver stars above. And Glorfindel could not tell if Oropher perceived his stare, or if the stars had simply swept him off to some other time, and he was lost now, deep within his memories.

The music shifted from the gentle melodies that rolled off the harps to that of more uptempo and lively melodies. And the whole of the forest sprung alive again, as if the fatigue that accompanied a late growing night had disappeared. The voices from Greenwood's children joined in with the song in a unified chorus, and their ringing voices filled the forest night once more. Glorfindel had been handed another goblet of wine before he realized it, so he drank the sweet liquid with a thirst he did not realize he had. The strong wine was not too sweet and eased his spirits further. He licked the bottom of his lip, and his tongue slightly tingled. He felt a pleasant ease from the wine wash over him, surprised a little with just how potent this wine actually was.

Feeling relaxed and content, he moved his gaze beyond Oropher and over to where Thranduil stood. Thranduil was alone now, and was also drinking wine. He watched as Thranduil took a long slow drink, and once he had brought the goblet from his lips, he too let his gaze drift into Glorfindel's eyes. His silver hair shone underneath the strong light from the stars and moon in the forest clearing, and his green eyes reflected the dancing flames of a nearby fire, and they beckoned to Glorfindel, willing with the light that reflected deep in the orbs for him to come to him now.

And Glorfindel could do no other but oblige to the request, moving slowly through the other feasting people until he was beside Thranduil.

"I apologize that I could not thank you for all that you did for me when I needed you most." Thranduil spoke to him the first words he had said to him since they had parted ways so many days before. "I wanted so badly to have you join me, to allow the visits that you wanted to give me. But not even I can match Oropher's will."

Glorfindel smiled at Thranduil, pleased to hear his sweet voice again. "I am glad to reunite with you for conversation, and my heart rejoices to be in your presence again." Glorfindel said with a smile across his face. To Glorfindel, the music seemed to mute and the others around them faded from his sight, as if it were just he and Thranduil here alone. Not even the piercing glare from Oropher could be perceived and it entered not into Glorfindel's perception or mind.

Thranduil returned the smile, and the shadows that had covered his face had passed. Be it the wine, the joyous celebrations, or the beautiful forest and stars, Thranduil was not sure what caused the haunting memories that lingered just at the edge of his perception to flee. He was grateful for the change, and his eyes held the showing of his warmth for Glorfindel.

"My friend." His shining green eyes pulled Glorfindel even closer to him. "I have missed you in my days of healing. How wrapped in the long sands of time were those days in which I could not see you. I offer the apologies of one who was just as frustrated as you were. In the days of healing, I would have liked to have seen your face and had your company, for I missed you dearly."

"The apology is not on you to give for what occurred these last few days." Glorfindel smiled sincerely to Thranduil. "We are limited on our time together now, and the night is not too old yet. There is plenty of time for our enjoyment of each other's company and I believe it would do our hearts good to focus not on past grievances. It is almost as if I have cast all the troubles of our times aside, and all that remains in my mind is the good that I still manage to find in these dark days. My heart feels no worry or dread. I have forgotten just when was the last time I felt such a peace."

"A beautiful illusion." Thranduil's rich voice lamented in response. "And illusions are most unsatisfying."

"This is true, but let us just tonight forget what waits for us on that fast approaching horizon. My eyes can little reflect just how joyful my heart is to be united with you again."

"Yes." Thranduil answered, smiling more. "Gladly will I give into the illusion of this night. And what has passed and what will come, is no longer on my mind. Not this night, will even my dreams penetrate to my perception to haunt me with their subtle dread. My soul is light and without disquiet, and even more gladness swells in my heart as I am once again drawn nearer to you."

Glorfindel took in the words and he knew as well that all the disenchantment that had gripped him through the last few days had completely vanished. And he vowed as well to take those words to heart for as long as he could. With this vow, he decided not to mention the news of the morning's council, for if Thranduil was indeed invited, Oropher would have also told him by now.

Thranduil's eyes were bright, and the joy he felt at being with Glorfindel again was evident in his smile. He motioned for Glorfindel to follow him, and the two went and seated themselves on a couch under a silvery translucent canopy that was seated underneath the forest's leaves and not in the open glade. The fabric, at times, caught the dancing light of the glowing fires and shone in silver ripples against the dark forest canopy.

As the night went ever on, the two conversed, elated at their reunion, and they laughed and joked as if they had never been separated, and as if near disaster had never came between them. Thranduil finally rose, and stretched his lithe body out in the waining night. And if suddenly possessed his wicked eyes turned to Glorfindel, and they both dashed off, deep into the forest.

Although many people had already left to rest for the remainder of the night, some remained, content to celebrate deep into the late night. Oropher had left already along with his counsellors and the lords of the realm. And most of the people who lingered in the night were drowsy and relaxed, lounging on the many couches and on the forest floor. Galion was still alert and his piercing eyes regarded and watched Thranduil and Glorfindel from afar. But he did not follow  
them when he saw them dash off into the forest, as if they were both driven by a voice that was not audible to him.

\---------------

Glorfindel was not really sure what started it. Perhaps it was the seductive smile, the yearning glance, the subtle flash of an elegant neck exposed. Perhaps it was the star-filled night, the fragrant breezes that gently stirred the leaves, or perhaps it was the potent wine that had caused him to erase all worries and misgivings. Perhaps it was simply nothing more than the longing he felt, beating in his heart, urging him closer to that sweet madness of surrender.

He was not really sure who started it, who lured who deep into the forest where intoxicating fragrances filled their senses. The trees grow denser and broader, the leaves hung low, and the coppice grew heavier as they moved further into the forest away from the celebrations. The forest grew darker in the late night, wrapping them in its density that blocked out the stars and the moon, enchanting them even further with its dark beauty.

Glorfindel was not sure who chased who now, perhaps he was the hunter, perhaps he was the prey. Perhaps their dance around the trees was more than just a game, but instead was the lure they had been resisting with their earlier flirtations and the doubts of trepidation. But now this dance that moved them around and through the forest filled them with a fervor that could not be subdued. Both could feel their hearts burn to fire, and they both realized what was happening. There would be no more denial of the yearning and desire they had for each other. They circled, they wound, they danced around the trees all the while pulling each others gazes with the temptations of their want.

And when pause they finally did, Glorfindel could see Thranduil's lips curved wider into a smile that lit his entire face, and he revealed his beautiful soul through his eyes. Glorfindel returned the smile while he moved swiftly around the trees, keeping time with Thranduil. The trees were dark, and the leaves whispered in the breezes that blew this late night. Although the forest was dark, the strong moon light that spilled down into the openings of the forest canopy would illuminate them when they passed into it. Glorfindel followed the shining emerald eyes and flowing sliver hair ever deeper into the forest, as if he followed that phantom from his dream.

And to where Thranduil led him, Glorfindel was not sure. They could have moved further into the forest and were now dancing along its edges, or they could have wound themselves right back to the waining feast. Thranduil went left and right, back and forth and Glorfindel felt dizzy, and lost within the forest. And when he thought he had lost Thranduil, the other's gentle laughter drew him on, until he caught the reflection of silver, deeper into the forest where he danced.

And Glorfindel was not sure just when he found himself laying on the forest floor with Thranduil. But there he was, staring into the deep green eyes of the other illuminated softly under the beams of the moon that shone through the leaves. Whatever had pulled him, it hardly mattered now. The craven desire that burned from his soul stifled everything else. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow to him, just the now of today, and those deep emerald eyes, the silken hair of mithril, the long fingers of alabaster that reached out for him, pulling him down to him.

"Are you rushing this?" Glorfindel finally asked through his breaths, wanting to make sure that Thranduil was ready for this. The other's eyes and body language revealed his want, but Glorfindel was not so sure about Thranduil's mind. He had seen the shadows of his torment still imprinted upon his soul earlier this night, and he wanted to make sure that Thranduil was ready.

Thranduil nodded, smiling wider. "I have desired you with a fervor I never knew I had until I met you. It has burned in me, welling in me, consuming me. I desire you more than I should, my dear Glorfindel. I want this, and I am ready now to know this sweet but maddening dance we have denied ourselves in these long days. I am finding that you have a way of moving through my heart like no other."

And with those words, it was Glorfindel who took it further, reaching over to cup Thranduil's face, and he moved his fingers delicately over the smooth and soft planes of his face. He saw just how gently Thranduil looked at him, his bright eyes brimming with his desire. And Glorfindel could feel his heart beat faster with his own yearning. He threw all of his trepidation aside.

Surrender, Glorfindel's entire being told him. Surrender to this sweet madness. And Glorfindel was ready to do just that, ready to finally lose himself in the deep green depths of Thranduil's eyes and taste upon his lips all the Thranduil had to offer. He was ready to hold him close, and feel his way along the long and lithe body, and finally realize that dream that had tempted him countless nights ago when he had first set out for the Greenwood.

Thranduil's deep emerald eyes were wild and hungry in their need for him, but he was restrained even with his desire that burned so strongly in his eyes. His eyes pulled Glorfindel closer to him, enticing him to lean in. Their faces were close. Neither spoke, for their eyes revealed the truest of their desires for each other. And they held each other within their gazes, frozen in this moment.

It was Glorfindel who started the kiss, so delicate at first, almost hesitant like the gentle breezes that could barely ruffle the forest's leaves around them. Glorfindel let his lips linger next to Thranduil's, inhaling, feeling the other so close to him. It was as if the entire forest was silent, and frozen in this time they shared. Not even the distant music that played ever on from the feast could penetrate to his or Thranduil's perception. Glorfindel again kissed Thranduil, and soon, their emotions roared to life and their kisses deepened, growing ever with their escalating want.

Glorfindel swore he could feel all the emotions that stormed within Thranduil's heart, pouring out in the yearning kiss. The taste was so sweet, so needy, so joyful, and dripped heavy with a passion that surprised them.

Glorfindel found himself no longer wanting to battle or resist the sweet temptation that had haunted him throughout his stay here. The night was too intoxicating and the other below him was beyond sensuous. Thranduil wanted this, and his eyes relayed to Glorfindel all of his desires. He saw the emerald eyes close, before he moved in for another kiss. Thranduil's kisses were intoxicating, his mouth was sweet and still held the sweet nuances of the feast's strong and delicious wine. The kiss continued, as they tasted each other, yearning to connect and experience the full emotions of each others' hearts that fueled their kiss.

Surrender. This was where Glorfindel now found himself. He ran his fingers through silver silken strands that were so soft to his touch, while he continued to kiss those luscious lips that still tasted of that sweet wine from the feast. And when the kiss broke he stared into those deep emerald eyes that reflected Thranduil's passion and deep desire. This was such madness to surrender, such madness to burn for someone so strongly that he knew he could never truly have. And the madness of it all was that he knew he could not resist. He was fully bewitched and enchanted, and he felt the personification of his wants flame within his groin. Such madness this all was!

The heavy dewy scent from the Greenwood aroused him further, and Thranduil suddenly sat upright, letting his wicked smile widen further. When Thranduil removed his tunic and exposed his bare chest, Glorfindel's arousal deepened. He felt his leggings tighten, his growing erection became evident and dampened the cloth. The beauty of Thranduil was never lost on Glorfindel. But as he stripped and the strong moon light illuminated his skin, Glorfindel could do no other but than worship him. His breathing grew heavy the more his eyes roamed over Thranduil, and he let a slight gasp escape his lips that was carried away in the night's breezes.

But the faint sound was not lost on Thranduil, who let an impish smile spread on his face. He had healed nicely and only faint bruises painted his torso. Unlike the last inspection, Glorfindel wanted to let his hungry hands and fingers roam over his chest, exploring fully Thranduil's body. And he reached for the soft skin, almost timidly. But before he could make contact, Thranduil had taken ahold of his hand, teasing him ever with that wicked smile.

"You will be mine tonight, and I will enjoy every second of this."

"As will I, my dear Glorfindel."

Glorfindel took the Thranduil's hand, and with a little push, moved him back down to the forest floor. Thranduil released his hands, and Glorfindel let his fingers and hands message the soft skin, no longer hesitant with his exploration, completely engrossed with the tone of the muscles, and the way the moonlight looked upon his skin. The skin beneath his touch was warm, but as his fingers continued exploring, the skin grew even warmer, and even in the moon light, Glorfindel could see the blush that spread across the entire body that was beneath him. Glorfindel knew it was he who had control now, and he understood that it was not just himself who had surrendered. Thranduil had completely surrendered to his touch, even though his eyes tried to dictate to Glorfindel what he wanted him to do.

Glorfindel's eyes and hands paused over the healing and fading bruises on his neck and face, and he kissed those tenderly. He looked almost whole again, and the faint bruises were fading. And he moved his fingers over his chest, feeling the toned muscles, letting his hands rest on the beating heart that pounded almost in rhythm with the distant music beyond them. The beating heart made his own heart race harder and he could feel more blood heat his groin.

Thranduil as well felt his body come alive and almost to fire as Glorfindel's fingers continued to work his body. He shuddered within and hissed when Glorfindel's mouth came to his nipple, biting it teasingly, drawing it out into hardness. His tongue swirled around one, while his wicked fingers manipulated the other. Enjoying the pleasurable sensations, Thranduil too let his fingers roam over Glorfindel's body, finally feeling and messaging the strong muscles that he had craved to touch and know since he had first seen Glorfindel. The strong body felt amazing to his touch, and the light moans Glorfindel made were effectively erotic.

Thranduil increased his wicked smile, while he finished removing the rest of his clothing. He wanted Glorfindel's hungry eyes to ravish his form and those blue eyes did just that. He sat fully exposed to Glorfindel, moving his body into the moonlight that shone down strongly even though the night was growing later. The moon seemed to grow much brighter now, and the stars as well, casting enough light so the two could worship each other.

Slowly Glorfindel let his eyes travel over Thranduil's body that he was offering so freely to him. And he moved his mouth to where his eyes had once gazed. He kissed along Thranduil's neck, placing gentle kisses up and down the neck, letting Thranduil know that he was the one who would be leading their dance now. It would be Thranduil whose body he would work, and it would be he who would have to surrender now.

And Thranduil leaned back while he let the kisses set his body ablaze, letting Glorfindel fully control him. He felt his arousal grow as he thought about his complete surrender to Glorfindel, yearning so much for the other to control and posses him. Letting himself give into the moment, Thranduil let soft moans escape his lips, as he let the sensations fully wash over him.

Thranduil's cock grew heavy between his legs as it began to swell more, and it teased and beckoned to Glorfindel. It took all of his control not to just capture it in his hands. But no, this dance was just beginning. There would be more to the building of Thranduil's desire. Glorfindel wanted him to completely come undone for him before the night was over. Thranduil may have been a master of seduction, but he was the master of passion. Thranduil had no idea what was in store for him. Glorfindel's mouth moved, and he began to kiss and suck on Thranduil's ears. Theywere growing flush and Thranduil moaned more, letting himself give in to the caresses and touches.

Glorfindel let Thranduil remove his tunic and he felt the sweet and gentle messages that Thranduil now gave to him with such tenderness, as if Thranduil were beholding and touching the rarest of gems. Although it was Glorfindel's desire to please Thranduil this night, he relaxed and was content to let Thranduil work his body. And Thranduil's nimble hands began to work Glorfindel's body until Glorfindel changed his mind.

"No." Glorfindel moaned through the wonderful touch that was bringing him such pleasure. "Lay back. I want to please you this night. Relax, and let me bring forth those wants you have painted for me through your eyes, and let me finally set your desires free. I have found my peace in this surrender, and my heart wants you to feel pleasure. Let me give to you what you have so wanted, and I can replace that day you came to know terror, with something that is much more beautiful." Glorfindel was used to taking charge, and he very much wanted to replace the shadows he had seen deep in Thranduil's eyes.

Thranduil laughed at Glorfindel's words, but if this was what it took to get him to finally surrender to his advances, then so be it. There was nothing Glorfindel could do to save him or the Greenwood from the winds of war, but Thranduil snapped his mind shut on those thoughts, annoyed that his mind moved to that topic. He sighed within, and was glad when Glorfindel brought his attention back to his responsive and hungry body.

Thranduil didn't reply, but smiled only with intrigue in his eyes, submitting to Glorfindel's request, eager once more to feel those hands upon him. With no further beckoning, he leaned back onto the soft leaves and green fragrant ferns, and he closed his eyes and listened to the distant music and the rustling leaves above him. And with closed eyes, his senses heightened and he felt the slight tingle of his skin as Glorfindel's hands hovered over him, touching and moving over his sensitive body.

Glorfindel withdrew his hands from Thranduil's body, only so he could finish removing the rest of his clothes. He very much needed to free himself from the clothing that he felt was too restrictive, and it was far too tight around his throbbing erection. His hardened flesh was sensitive, responsive, weeping with his need, and he saw Thranduil's hungry eyes look him over when he had fully unclothed himself. And Thranduil seemed to leap onto him, kissing him with a hunger. The two held the kiss long.

Glorfindel pulled back, gasping through the feelings of pleasure and the arousal that flamed through his body. His heart was pounding, beating, and he felt as if the excitement of desire set Thranduil awash in its manifestations. He saw as Thranduil's eyes shone bright with his own deep passions, brimming as shinning and glistening jewels. A yearning flamed more in Glorfindel than he was comfortable with acknowledging, but it undeniably was there. He suppressed the feelings again, as best he could, and he had to repeat in his mind that this desire was akin to a delusion, something that could never come to pass. For he understood with a sad clarity that this fling he would know with Thranduil could only ever be fleeting. And Glorfindel hoped that Thranduil understood this truth as well. But he was not so sure, as he stared intensely into the other's eyes, so full of the joys of his passion.

He pulled him down and again and their mouths united in another bruising kiss. He moved his hands through his long and soft silver hair. Glorfindel let his fingers roam further down Thranduil's body, tracing gentle messages from his neck to his firm bottom. He let his fingers and hand message deeper into the tight muscles there, electing a a moan of pleasure from Thranduil. His strong hands continued to massage the perfect round cheeks before his long finger started to trace the outer ring of Thranduil's entrance. But Glorfindel stopped, as if he suddenly wondered what he could use to ease the breaching of the muscle.

Thranduil's gentle laughter rang like chimes, and from his discarded clothes he pulled from an inside pocket a small bottle of oil. He had come prepared, very much wanting and hoping that his seduction would lead Glorfindel to this moment. And it had worked. When he had dressed and prepared for this feast, he had made sure to bring the vial of oil with him. His laugh chimed more, almost in wicked amusement when he saw Glorfindel's wide eyes narrow in his realization.

"Oh you are a most wicked creature." Glorfindel joined in with the laughter. "Tell me truly, was it you or this forest who has ensnarled me this night, luring me out to the peril of my heart?"

"I would say that it was a flash of desire deep in your eyes that called to me. It is you who have bewitched me, my dear Glorfindel. And I would do no other but to surrender to your lure."

"We both have finally come to this agreement and I very much am glad. My heart had little found such joy. I will enjoy this night, and I will enjoy this liaison with you. Even if our time together may soon be coming to close, I will gladly open myself up to you."

"You speak of the alliance, but let us not speak of what we will debate tomorrow. Instead move your eyes over me, and give me what I have wanted so much from you. Oh how I have craved your touch and have wondered more than I should just what your taste would be like. I want to know now all that you have to offer."

And Thranduil's words beckoned more to Glorfindel and his wanton display of his desire was a like a mighty flood that washed over him, and poured through his limbs and to his groin. The forest wrapped them in its arms, and seemed to Glorfindel was just like the image had had dreamt of so many nights ago. He was deep within the Greenwood, naked as day, reaching and touching that phantom who had danced with him, and again, like he had felt in his dream. He felt his soul rise free and high, almost as if he was dancing on the very tops of the forest canopy with the blazing stars and moon lighting the path that he followed. The forest seemed to spin, he was dizzy within the deep greens of the forest leaves, and he couldn't take his eyes off the sparking emeralds that were Thranduil's eyes.

Thranduil too could feel the enchantment of the forest, and its essence swelled within his heart, pulsing through him. He smiled and pulled Glorfindel in for a kiss, and placed into his hand that vial of oil. "Please." he said when he had broke the kiss. "Continue on."

Glorfindel did not break his gaze with Thranduil, while had coated his hands in the oil. He watched as Thranduil moved back again, moving his legs for better access. Glorfindel smiled, and he ran his finger over the entrance, while he moved his eyes back to the other. Thranduil smiled at him and his eyes swam with his wanton desire. He closed his eyes, and a small gasp escaped his lips when he felt Glorfindel's oily finger push slowly in.

Thranduil relaxed as best he could, despite the pounding of his heart. Although he was no virgin, he rarely ever allowed his flirtations to ever get this far, and he certainly had never allowed anyone to touch him like this, in this spot. It was he who had always dominated his very few lovers. But the way that Glorfindel was touching his body, caused him to want his exploration and touches to never stop. He wanted Glorfindel's finger to keep pushing into his body, and he was enjoying the strange and new sensation that was pulsating through his body.

The first painful sensations had quickly changed to feelings of strangeness, and as Glorfindel showily pushed further in, the feeling shifted to an erotic pleasure. He wanted this with Glorfindel, his body and heart needed it. Enthralled by the music far off in the forest, and the magic of the Greenwood forest which seemed to cast such fragment aroma, Thranduil almost felt dizzy with the want that swelled within him.

"Does this please you?" Glorfindel asked, wondering at the sudden tension he felt in Thranduil, and the emotions that were painted on his face.

"Do not stop." Thranduil opened his legs wider, wanting Glorfindel to continue on. His heart pounded, the forest floor was soft with ferns and leaves and soft delicate grasses, and he leaned back closing his eyes and arching his back and neck. Thranduil could feel his heart beat faster than it ever had before. It almost drowned out everything else, as well as muting all the swirling thoughts that raced through his mind. The realization of knowing Glorfindel was beyond his greatest expectations. The knowing burned itself into his heart, almost as if a flaming dagger had scalded it with its deadly pierce. And all that Thranduil could do was smile in his joy.

Thranduil's pleading and desperate voice was almost more than Glorfindel could handle. He grew only more aroused, and he coated more of his fingers with the oil., barely able to contain his own desire. But before he moved his fingers back to Thranduil's bottom, he wickedly began to stroke Thranduil's erection, teasing the weeping head with masterful strokes. He smiled, pleased with himself, when he heard the cries of pleasure from Thranduil. The other was completely under the control of his touch, and his face was awash in the beauty of his pleasure, flushed and mouth open with his groans. So beautiful, Glorfindel thought.

He continued the stroking, but realized that Thranduil was far too close to coming undone, so he stopped, and moved his hand away from his erection. He almost laughed when Thranduil's groans turned to those of protest, but the time for release was not yet to be had.

"Relax now and breathe." Glorfindel warned Thranduil before he moved more fingers into his bottom. Once he saw that Thranduil did as he had requested, he slowly began to work Thranduil's virgin entrance again. He felt as Thranduil moved his hips back against the long and probing fingers, and he could see that Thranduil's arousal responded more, liquid escaping along the heated slit. Glorfindel could hardly contain himself, and he sped up the preparation, simply not caring to drag this on any longer. The dance of their flirtation had dragged on through his stay here, and now that he was so close to finally knowing the sweetest treasure in all of Greenwood, his vast patience had been exhausted.

Glorfindel coated his length with more oil, and he was ready to complete his surrender. He leaned in, and met Thranduil's lips for a passionate kiss.

"Relax now. I promise I will not hurt you." Glorfindel sated.

Thranduil already trusted him fully, but he listened and took the words to heart. They were so gentle, so caring, and hinted at the unknown sensations that he would soon be experiencing. Thranduil relaxed when Glorfindel finally entered him, slowly, pausing before he pushed further in, waiting for Thranduil to grow accustomed to the stretch and feeling of penetration. Thranduil arched his head back, and closed his eyes tighter as he tried to relax further and grow accustomed to the feeling of Glorfindel deep within him. He exhaled when Glorfindel finally pushed himself all the way in, and he opened his eyes.

Glorfindel himself, had been with just a few lovers before, but it had been years since he had last felt the pleasure of another. He started moving in and out, slowly, building the pleasure for him and Thranduil, who was rolling his hips with each thrust that he took. His rhythm was slow at first, and he pushed gently in and out, trying to find the spot that would make Thranduil come undone. He knew he finally had found it when Thranduil moaned louder. The incredible heat and tightness was almost too much for Glorfindel, and he had to remind himself to grab ahold of Thranduil's erection, pumping him in time with his own thrusts, intent on bringing them closer to their orgasms together.

"Glor….fin…delllllllllll." Thranduil moaned, losing himself more in the pleasure he felt. It was beyond what he could imagine, and no coherent thoughts could form within his mind. He moved his hips, meeting the thrusts, working his strong muscles in a wicked circle, using his instinct and what he knew had pleased him in the past. Glorfindel's thrusts had built from slow at first, to faster, maddening in the waves of ecstasy he felt. It was better and more than he could have ever imagined. And Glorfindel knew just how to work his body, penetrating him in a manner that made his mind explode, and threatened to set his body ablaze.

The thrusts continued, and their combined moans carried out into the forest until it was drowned within the distant music still being played for the remaining elves who lingered at the feast. Their moans escalated into gasps and louder moans that grew with their mounting orgasms into the rustling leaves that blew in the breezes, out into the dark night sky above the forest canopy. And both Glorfindel and Thranduil felt that they rose into those very star fields, up above the forest, into a place where their bodies flamed alive and their hearts burst open. They rode the waves of their mounting release, gasping, crying out their pleasure. Finally the pleasure that they felt was beyond what they could control, and together they burst and screamed out their release, Glorfindel into his lover and Thranduil onto Glorfindel's hand and his stomach.

Glorfindel collapsed atop Thranduil, breathing in deep and quick gasps as he rode the aftermaths of his release. He could hear Thranduil's heart pounding in his chest, reminding Glorfindel of the earlier rhythm from the music that had been played at the feast. It was steady and strong, fast and slowly calming to a gentler cadence. When he had collected himself, he moved closer to Thranduil's face, and kissed him tenderly, sensuously and slowly, relaying just how much the other meant to him. Thranduil responded to the kiss, and Glorfindel could taste all of the emotions within Thranduil. He rolled beside him, and took the other into his strong embrace, holding him tight, as if the other were nothing but a dream that would disappear if he opened his eyes.

"That…was…. amazing." Glorfindel finally stated, and he felt a little dumb that he couldn't think to say anything more eloquent and that could adequately describe all the pleasure that Thranduil had brought to him.

"Indeed it was. It was more than I had imagined. Your taste and feel is beyond what I thought was possible."

"Glad to know that I did not disappoint you. I did not know I fueled your fantasies." Glorfindel laughed.

"Fantasies?" Thranduil questioned. "Deep within, I always knew that I would have a taste of you. I liked your taste very, very much."

Glorfindel laughed further, not surprised with Thranduil's words. Glorfindel imagined that Thranduil typically got what he desired, and since the day that he had arrived, he could tell that Thranduil had yearned for him. This was fine with Glorfindel, just as long as Thranduil did not let himself fall too deeply for him.

"And as did I, my dear Thranduil."

Thranduil closed his eyes and he breathed deep the musky smell of Glorfindel. His strong arms pulled him in now into a warm embrace, and he relaxed within the warm strong arms. In his relaxation, he allowed his breathing to match Glorfindel's, who seemed as if he was ready to pass into sleep. The forest was serene, and the dewey ground was soft. Thranduil stirred a little, sitting up to scan the forest. He knew they would be safe this night in the forest, for the whispers from the trees were as soft as a lullaby, causing a peace to settle with their words of safety to him.

Thranduil leaned once more into the warmth of Glorfindel's open arms, gladly as he was very weary in his mind and body. He whispered to Glorfindel for a peaceful sleep to find him. The late night was heavy on the forest now, and even the moon's strong light was waining and the stars blazed on but their light could not penetrate through the leaves now. The heavy darkness seemed to call to him, pulling him closer to slumber. It was all too much for him to battle; the exhaustion he felt after his release and the realization of his heart's desire pulled him under.

"Sweetest dreams, my dear Glorfindel." He murmured, soft as a lullaby.

Glorfindel smiled, and returned the wish of a peaceful and good sleep, and he too was ready to settle into slumber although he was not overly weary. But he could sense Thranduil's weariness and he as well was content now to fall into reverie beside him. Although the night was not too chilly in this early summer, Glorfindel pulled over them his long tunic, thinking that the soft fabric would further bring comfort to Thranduil. He could see that the other passed into slumber and he smiled, as he saw that no shadows crept across his face. He saw that Thranduil was at ease with the peace of his coming dreams.

Glorfindel let a smile cross his face, seeing that Thranduil was at ease. He was little surprised at just how peaceful and content he felt with this surrender. But still, he guarded his heart ever, knowing that he could not completely fall for Thranduil. He had only surrendered to the madness of desire, but not to the whims of love. He knew his days were numbered in the Greenwood, if days he even had any longer. For all he knew, Oropher might just send him off at the conclusion of their meeting tomorrow, or he might drag the meetings on for days. He simply did not know what the future days would bring.

He decided to let his mind fall into slumber, clearing of all his thoughts for soon the time for his debate with Oropher would commence and he would need all of his strength and wit about him when the morning did finally find him.


	11. Such Was It

Just before the break of dawn, Thranduil awoke with a sudden startle, as he felt the beginning of the overwhelming terror of the attack arise within. He was still wrapped within Glorfindel's strong embrace and he breathed deep, separating himself as best as he could from the shadows that still haunted his dreams. Still, the echoes of the fading words of wrath resounded in his mind. Thranduil did his best to suppress a tremor and his eyes focussed on the dark leaves above him, blowing gently in the hours before the dawn. The forest canopy was dark and the early day's sky was grey as it was wedged between the dark of night and the light of day.

Slowly like a breaking dawn, Thranduil felt himself calm and his heart steadied in its beating. He did not want his memories to throw him back into the terrors he had lived through. He felt his heart settle, even though he was a little dismayed that not even Glorfindel could chase and keep away his dreams and memories that plagued him. But even as he now looked at Glorfindel who was content in a deep slumber, he was tired no more. He did not want to stir just yet and rise, instead content to enjoy the warm body that was wrapped around him. He relaxed further, as he had fully freed his mind from the grasp of his terrors. He minded to match the cadence of his breathing to match Glorfindel's deep breaths of slumber, so he could perhaps resume his own peaceful rest. And in his relaxation, he drifted in a peaceful state not quite dreaming but not yet in wakefulness.

\-------

The breaking of the morning seemed delayed, as if the pulling of the mantles of the dark night would just not move on. Even Ithil seemed to not want to fade with submission to Anor, and the stars still fought to shine on. But the coming dawn would come sooner rather than later. Glorfindel blinked, staring up at the leaves and trees, daring not to stir. He did not want to disturb the still sleeping other who was nestled beside him. His eyes moved to the slumbering form, and slowly he moved his eyes over Thranduil. Silver-haired spilled everywhere, covering the other's face. Glorfindel remained snuggled up by Thranduil, unmoving, feeling very much like the daybreak that struggled to push through.

Glorfindel tried to piece together the events from last night, the hypnotic music, the dizzying dancing, the flowing wine. All those elements of the feast had been nothing in comparison to the luring emerald eyes that had pulled him into their depths, until he had felt trapped in Thranduil's gaze. His thoughts drifted back to that night, and again he could feel the memories of being far too dizzy, far too lost within the wicked depths of those eyes. He was certain now who had lured who, who had cast the enchantments, who had pulled him deep into the forest where still he laid entwined with Thranduil. He smiled, as he let the sensations from last night wash over him again. Oh how wickedly enchanting Thranduil had been; those eyes, those lips, his skin. Glorfindel could not think of a better time than last night, although he knew there had been many in his long life. His body had been set ablaze, turned inside and then outside. He had exploded, both in body and in mind.

He let his mind run over just what pounded in his heart. But even as he felt the growing attraction for Thranduil that wanted to burst from within, Glorfindel suppressed it. As dear as Thranduil was becoming to him, there was the meeting he would be attending today. Glorfindel knew he needed to focus all of his attention on the upcoming day instead of what he had felt the night before. He let his mind move now to the words he would say, rehearsed in the last couple of days. The time of debate was approaching like a breaking dawn, and Glorfindel could feel the excitement he had for it.

The more he thought of Oropher, the more Glorfindel wondered about the repercussions of his night together with Thranduil. He wondered if somehow word of his night together with Thranduil had made it back to Oropher, but he hardly cared anymore. He knew deep within that Oropher had already made his decision, so what was he to care anymore with giving into the sweet seduction that had driven him to surrender?

Glorfindel's thoughts were interrupted, and he gasped a little when he felt soft nimble fingers move down his body, over the tunic that covered both him and Thranduil. Those fingers messaged over the cloth above his shaft. He was surprised that Thranduil had caught him unaware, having thought that he had still been sleeping.

"Good morning," Thranduil purred, but he stopped moving his hand over the tunic, and he looked intently at Glorfindel. His large green eyes were inquisitive and wicked, and he paused, smiling, hand hovering over the clothed and awaking erection. "Would you like me to continue, my dear Glorfindel? Do you want your body to awaken with the heat of your desire?"

"Ah, you wicked creature." Glorfindel stated, suddenly caring very little about the upcoming meeting. This offering was so much better than the nervous anticipation of debate, and would be a wicked way to start his morning. "Gladly would I give into this pleasure. The want I have for you is even more so than I remember, and my eyes are drawn to you in this early rays of sunlight."

Thranduil smiled, and he moved his hands under the tunic, wrapping one around the shaft, stroking it in wicked circles. Glorfindel could feel his body come alive again, much like it had the night before. Ah, the early morning touch felt so good to him, and he breathed a deep breath of pleasure as he felt heat engulf his groins. His body was giving into those wicked fingers that were once again driving out the lust from within him. Enjoying the mounting sensations of his arousal, Glorfindel moved his own hand to return the pleasure to Thranduil, but his hand was paused from proceeding.

"No!" Thranduil stated with an authority in his voice that Glorfindel had never heard from him before. "Stay laying back like that, because I will do for you what you have done for me. Let me be the one who brings pleasure to you now."

Glorfindel smiled as he yielded to those words and he felt warm and moist lips move down his body, kissing him, while lithe fingers messaged his muscles. Glorfindel wondered just how disarrayed he was this morning, covered still in the forest and the evidence from their escapades from last night. But whatever his current state was, it seemed not to deter Thranduil whose fingers had now wrapped more around his growing erection.

Thranduil's hands were warm and he had used the very last of the oil on them, and he now began to increase the friction while his other hand teased Glorfindel's weeping slit. He watched as Glorfindel closed his eyes, and his face began to flush. Soft moans were escaping from his moist lips as Glorfindel gave into the touches. Thranduil could see just how flushed his body became and Glorfindel was beyond beautiful to him. Thranduil moved closer into Glorfindel, who spread his legs wider, allowing Thranduil to nestle between his legs. However, taking together both of their erections was tricky at first, and Thranduil had to reposition himself several times with Glorfindel's aid before he could find the correct and best angle needed. FInally, he took both of their erections into his hands and he moved his hands up and down, increasing the friction.

Glorfindel was content to allow Thranduil to work their bodies, giving into his wish that he be in control, so that he could bring him pleasure. He felt waves of pleasure began to roll through him, mounting, growing as if it spilled from his inner core, ready to burst forth from his body. But Thranduil was not ready yet for their combined releases, and he slowed the pace, focusing instead to tease again Glorfindel's sensitive and weeping head.

A gentle kiss was placed again to Glorfindel, but since he was so close to coming undone, the kiss turned hungrier, wilder, fueled with their want this early morning. Not even Thranduil, with his patience and control, could slow the pace for too long, for his own body ached and craved for his release. As Thranduil increased the pace again, he joined in louder with Glorfindel's moans, ever increasing the maddening friction. And when they finally had found their release, it was done so together, and it was in unison that their orgasms erupted.

"Ah, my dear Thranduil." Glorfindel gasped as he rode out the waves of pleasure that rippled through his body. "How you have made a show of us as the forest awakens and the dawn would reveal us both."

"Mhm." Thranduil sat up, tugging on his tunic. "And imagine Oropher's face, if he would have happened to come upon this scene on one of his early morning walks." Thranduil had to stifle his laughter at seeing the other visibly pale with his words. "Worry not. This area is not under guard. My father's eyes do not see in this area."

Glorfindel was shocked when he heard Thranduil's words and he cried aloud. "Are you just now telling me that I was slumbering out of doors, beyond that eyes of guards, and at the mercy of the Greenwood? Not just a few days ago, you were almost killed in this very forest. Thranduil, have you learned nothing?"

"In retrospect, I believe that what you say is warranted. The Greenwood is a wild place, and there are many dangerous inhabitants who call this forest home. And neither you or I had any weapons on us." Thranduil laughed, but then his voice turned more serious. "The forest was peaceful last night, and through the whispers I knew that no harm would find us. We are still within the bounds of the realm of my father, although this area is not where patrols camp or march. The worse that could have happened was for someone to have wondered on us in their walk through the forest, but I worried for this not, because we are far from any dwellings."

Glorfindel smiled, and finally laughed. "Ever have I been at the mercy of the inhabitants of the Greenwood, and still I remain in this predicament. But it is with gladness that I do." He smiled, as he looked around the awakening forest. "The sun will soon break this lingering dawn, and the time to meet with Oropher will be at hand."

"Ah yes!." Thranduil interjected. "The great debate will soon commence."

Thranduil frowned, as he wondered just how this day would soon unfold. "I both anticipate with gladness and with trepidation the answer to your request. Something Oropher had said to me has given me hope that the alliance Gil-galad envisions will come to pass." His voice stalled in his speech, and his eyes closed as if a cold and sudden doubt washed over him. Finally he sighed, admitting the enigma that was his father's mindset. "But I am really not so certain as to what he will decide."

Glorfindel stated nothing, since he did not want his heart to believe just yet that his mission would come to pass. The answer, however, would soon be known to him.

Thranduil had finished dressing, and was smoothing down his hair, picking idly at twigs and leaves that were tangled in it while Glorfindel finished dressing. Once they were content with their early morning appearances, they began the walk back to the citadel. The still awakening forest continued to slowly chase away the lingering eventide. And Glorfindel let the dewey dawn fill his nostrils, and he pulled with long breaths the cool forest air deep into his lungs. All the richness of the forest was an aroma like no other. The pines, the ferns, the emerald broad leaves, mixed with the early mooning dew that moistened the very soil of Arda, creating a beautiful aroma that was heavy with its richness.

And Glorfindel let the peace of the forest wash over him. While they walked, Thranduil looked long at him, and his eyes smiled at Glorfindel in their emerald depths.

When they had finally approached the citadel, they entered without further conversation, each knowing that soon they would meet again at the meeting. Both were focused on getting ready for the meeting, and they quickly parted ways in the great hall.

\--------------

The early morning splendor spread through the forest slowly, and Oropher had risen early, taking the budding dawn in. The nights's festivities had been pleasant for him, and even had stirred his heart with joy. The simple celebrations of the good still found in life usually had a way of penetrating through the layers of his soul. Oropher felt his energy renewed and he was ready for the day's debate with Glorfindel.

Regardless of Glorfindel's words of persuasion, Oropher basically had already made his mind up regarding Gil-galad's request for alliance, although he vowed to keep his promise. He would allow Glorfindel to try to persuade him and if he did, he did. However, he sincerely doubted that Glorfindel could change his mind. Oropher doubted this would happen but he didn't completely dispel that his mind could be changed or swayed. If Glorfindel had the power of persuasion and if Gil-galad's terms were favorable, maybe he would consider alliance. Glorfindel was certainly valiant, and the spirit of the forest whispered to him. Oropher disliked him still, for the fire of his son's heart burned in his eyes for Glorfindel. And the only conclusion that Oropher could arrive at was that it would be disastrous for them to get more involved with the Noldor.

Oropher walked the halls of his home in this early day, letting his mind break free from his thoughts of alliance for the time being. Despite what lay ahead in the coming hours, Oropher still felt the swelling of his soul. The night under the stars, surrounded by the forest's beauty and the mirth of his people had kindled a long forgotten joy in him. Oropher had almost been convinced that his heart could no longer beat with happiness, but it had, at last night's feast. As fleeting as this feeling was, he would allow its illusion to lighten his mood and heart. Even though he very much knew what reached for them. He knew of Sauron's hate and of his iniquity. He sighed, not caring to check his growing concern for what was coming.

He continued walking, and the movement of two figures emerging from the forest and to the citadel caught his attention. There was no mistaking who the figures were, as the beams of Anor cut into the glade around the citadel, setting their golden and silver hair ablaze. Oropher frowned, angered, but that moment passed quickly when he reminded himself that Glorfindel would be gone soon. With his banishment, he would no longer be allowed to haunt his halls or bewitch his son.

Oropher moved back as the figures arrived closer to the door, shielding his form from their sight when they entered, hoping to catch their words. But the two were silent on their parting, and he only moved on with his walk after the two were long gone. As much as Oropher wished to pursue Thranduil and make his venom known, his plans of sending Glorfindel away were the calming restraint that kept the storm of his rage at bay. There were other, more effective ways to tear the two apart with ways which were only logical and permanent, despite what Thranduil wanted.

Oropher replaced the scowl on his face with a smile. Soon the natural balance and order of his and Thranduil's lives would return. Glorfindel would be gone and he wouldn't have to interfere any longer with keeping the other from his son. What a fool he had been in his stubbornness. If only he would have received Glorfindel immediately instead of toying with him in these mind games, then Thranduil's infatuation would have never grown to what it was now. Hindsight usually led to bitter and mocking revelations, and this revelation was even more so tormenting with the knowing of the final fruition of ones choices and actions. He felt the joy that had once eased his heart disappear to a void. He felt responsible for Thranduil's confused attraction to Glorfindel. If only he hadn't been so stubborn. He made a tight fist and could feel his fingernails dig into the flesh of his palm while he fumed about his choices.

With a scowl still etched upon his face, Oropher continued his walk through his halls, where now the bustle of the early morning had already commenced. And still, Oropher's anger raged on, and he looked forward to unleashing his ire on Glorfindel this day. 

"My King." Galion's rich voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he relaxed, grateful for Galion's intervention. "The council room is prepared and ready. I made sure to bring vases of water and of wine, for I was not sure how late your meeting will last. When the time is right, I will ensure that Lord Glorfindel is escorted to the counsel room."

Oropher nodded, showing his gratitude for all that Galion had done. With a kind smile, he departed, continuing his original walk through his halls before the morning meeting.

\--------------------

Glorfindel snuck into his room, eager for a bath, for he felt like a sticky mess, covered as he was in forest soil, moss, and leaves. He was also coated in the night's and mornings escalades, and he very much wished to refresh now. He entered into the washroom and sighed in displeasure when he saw that no bath had been drawn for him. He muttered under his breath, and stripped himself bare of his soiled clothes. He wondered if this was of Oropher's command, or if it was just a misunderstanding since he had not been within his room this morning. It seemed that this had caused the servants to conclude that he did not want or need his water drawn for a morning bath.

Luckily for him, a vase of drinking water was in his room, and as it was tepid with the room's temperature. Making due with what he had, he smiled, eager to refresh, despite his limited resources. He wetted a wash cloth and cleaned himself as best he could. He had washed his hair the day before, and luckily for him, despite just a few leaves and moss that he picked out, his hair was not too unclean. He combed it down until his golden locks shown and glistened like running streams of silk. Before he dressed he rubbed some fragrant body oil over his skin. The scent was of soft musk, delicate but fragrant. He knew that Thranduil loved it and he wanted to bring a smile on that fair face once more.

He finally dressed himself in a less impressive ensemble than the one he had worn the night before, and he made sure to set those garments aside to be cleaned. He looked himself over in the mirror pleased with his appearance. And he turned, just as he heard a knock sound on his door.

"Good morning." Galion's greeting was cold in its tones and his eyes had that knowing displeasure that radiated deep from within them. Glorfindel could tell that he knew that he and Thranduil had been together all night, but he did not understand why it bothered Galion.

"Good morning, and thank you very much for all the work you did with preparing and planning the feast." Glorfindel responded.

Galion regarded the words but he did not respond. Instead he motioned for Glorfindel to follow him out into the hall.

Despite his calm demeanor, Glorfindel could feel his heart pound. It might have beat with the growing anticipation of finally being able to challenge and debate with Oropher on the alliance, or perhaps his heart pounded now for the lingering connection he had shared with Thranduil. A smile must have escaped from his thoughts and spread across his face, for he noticed that Galion gazed hard at him with a sideways glance, glowering almost in his indifferent eyes.

Without a word, Galion opened the door to the council room for Glorfindel when their walk had finally ended. He motioned for Glorfindel to follow him into the room. "This is your seat, Lord Glorfindel." He said, moving now past him and to a side table that held drinking water and some wine. "May I offer you a drink before I leave?"

"No thank you, Galion."

Glorfindel did not care to sit yet. His eyes instead were drawn to a large and beautiful mural that covered one of the walls, and he let the mural grab his full attention. It was a depiction of the creation of the stars, and their lights burned brightly, almost calling out to him in an erie manner. It was a powerful scene, and his eyes fixated on that light that could cut through the strong darkness. It seemed to him that it was a light that could travel through the very folds of space and time. The scene delighted Glorfindel, as if he was seeing the event unfold before him, and he was witnessing a legend. It was so beautiful, so enchanting. The mural made him think of strength, and Glorfindel knew that he would find his when he battled Oropher. He would finally today match the will of Oropher. There was so much to lose if the request was turned down. He shuddered at this thought.

His attention was snapped when the chief-advisor entered, and he politely inclined his head towards Glorfindel when he entered. But he said nothing to Glorfindel, simply taking his seat. Glorfindel moved and took his seat as well, expecting Oropher to arrive any moment. However, as the minutes started to tick away, Glorfindel started to wonder, to doubt. Was Oropher again playing with his mind? Glorfindel wondered what caused both Oropher and Thranduil delay. Perhaps Oropher knew of their night together and had called it all off….

His eyes snapped to attention when Oropher and Thranduil arrived. Thranduil took his seat beside him, while Oropher seated himself on the other side of Glorfindel. Just the four of them were within the counsel room, seated in a circle.

Glorfindel peered at the the figures, expecting a tension to settle in the room. But as his eyes passed over Oropher who seemed hesitant to begin their meeting, he could see no discord on Oropher, nor could he feel any of the unease he had expected. Instead, the council room was bright with lanterns and the beautiful mural strangely emitted a subtle starlight. A pleasant and peaceful ease filled the room, and not even his heart was beating with a nervous anticipation. Glorfindel smiled within, wondering what new tricks Oropher was playing with his mind now.

The pause before the debate began was different to each party gathered in the room. While Glorfindel was at ease, Thranduil could feel an uneasy discord rise within his stomach until it pierced his heart. He already knew that he would be asked what his stance was on alliance, and would be asked to recount his dark dreams once more. He caught his father's glance and he stilled his mind, readying himself for the beginning of council.

Oropher had studied those in the room and decided it was best to begin the discussions and not delay the proceedings any longer. His clear voice pierced the silence in the room. "Today we gather to hear the Lord Glorfindel's request of alliance with the Noldor, a call to march together in war against our shared enemy. I will listen to each person's opinion on the matter, before I make my final decision regarding our stance on this alliance." Oropher let his eyes travel to Glorfindel and he paused before he continued.

"We are all aware of the stakes and we all know the bitter history of the death and destruction that Sauron has waged against the free peoples of Arda. I see no reason to comment or reflect on what has occurred, for today we meet to discuss what may come to pass. Lord Glorfindel, please deliver your message from your king and then we will begin our debate."

Glorfindel appreciated the direct approach from Oropher, who got straight to the point of the matter, instead of spending time on the background that was always thoroughly explored when Gil-galad or Elrond held their councils. He looked the others in the eyes before he began to speak.

"As you already know, I have journeyed to your lands to request an alliance between the Elven realms of Lindon and the Greenwood. My High-King, Gil-galad knows that Sauron will never be satisfied nor will he rest until he has covered every reach of the lands of Arda under his shadow. My King requests an alliance with the Greenwood, and in this alliance we will march together against that evil that threatens us all. Gil-galad recognizes the skill of your archers, and covets  
highly to add the might and skill of your warriors in our fight against Sauron."

Oropher was silent, already having anticipated the words Glorfindel had spoken. But there was still more to be learned from Glorfindel regarding what Gil-galad really wanted from them.

"Continue." He finally stated, his face was placid, and he seemed genuinely interested to learn more.

"Besides the alliance of your realm, GIl-galad will also request alliance with Lorien. He has deemed that a united elven people is essential to victory over Sauron. We anticipate that in response, if he has not already begun, Sauron will gather even more wicked beasts and men to his side. "

Oropher's mind seemed to drift to something that had clicked within his memories on hearing of Sauron's call to arms. But if he knew something more on that subject, Oropher did not elaborate. Instead he chose another topic when he finally did question. "Do just the elves carry this burden? Or do the Numenoreans assemble a host of their own people to join us? I would imagine they hold more grievances against Sauron than we do, and would be eager to challenge any further assault."

"At the time I had left Imladris, a formal alliance had not yet been forged. Although our High-King does anticipate that King Elendil will call for one. We anticipate that even the might from Moria lead by Durin will join in this fight. When he does call, Gil-galad wants to answer with a united elven people."

"What does the Noldor offer in this alliance that they seek? Why should we answer this request?"

"Gil-galad will offer to you everything that he has to ensure that your armies are prepared and ready. The best minds will gather to plan our strategies, and you will be invited to join in the war councils. In our alliance, we will have strength in numbers, and will become a mighty force of will and ruin to our enemy. In addition, Gil-galad would see to any assistance he can offer: be it with the forging of weapons, or other items. We can make strong blades that are crafted by the best elven smiths, as well as armor and shields. Together our armies can train together, and we will be battle ready before we march."

"I want specifics, Lord Glorfindel, not honey covered words of friendship, and insults that come in the guise of offerings. Tell me truly what Gil-galad wants with us, and why he would think that the Greenwood would ever bow to his whims." He snarled, anger evident in his disdain for all that Gil-galad offered to them, as if he felt insulted that they would even need the help of the Noldor.

Glorfindel noted that Oropher's face had contorted into a leer, and he had to note to keep his emotions in check and he kept his voice calm before he answered. Oropher would not unnerve or intimidate him this day. He was mighty and just as strong as Oropher was. In his wisdom, he knew what it was that Oropher sought, and he knew that he could not lie to Oropher regarding this one detail. Oropher was far too astute to be fooled on Gil-galad's plans. No, he had to provide the answer that Oropher sought. Lying would only throw him into a rage.

"Gil-galad will be the commander over all the elves, and all other generals will march under his banner. You will lead your own armies, who would carry your banners, but ultimately, you would follow his battle orders." He kept his voice even, steady in its clarity.

"This is as much as I had suspected." Oropher's voice was calm. He paused while he shook his head, face leering more in his mounting anger. But to his credit, he did not let his wrath unleash on Glorfindel. Instead he watched him intently, seeing that Glorfindel picked up some documents that had been nestled by him in his seat. He paused in his speech while he studied the hard gaze that Oropher gave him. "I have summarized the details of the documents prepared by Gil-galad."

Glorfindel held the documents out to Oropher now, who motioned for him to hand them to his advisor. Taking the documents with a hasty snatch, the advisor unfolded them with a sneer on his face and began to read the documents contents. While he read, the other fell into silence, as none of them cared to speak, intent instead to watch the advisor's face while he read.

"Yes." He finally stated when he had finished reading the documents. "Glorfindel did indeed provide an accurate summary and there is nothing more hidden in these letters. Most of it is simple history, a pleading justification as to why we should all go to war against Sauron. And the last page is meant to be returned to Gil-galad with your signature of agreement on alliance."

"Give me the documents." Oropher stated, reaching for them. Not too gently, he snatched them from the advisor, as if the action was a manifestation of his anger and disdain for the High-King. But Oropher did not look at the documents, but instead he walked over to the side table, and once there, he sat them atop it, and not too gently. He kept his back to the others and not caring that it was still not yet midday, he poured himself some wine. Languidly, he took a deep drink of the wine, as if he was trying to stifle a rage that had been steadily growing in him. When he finally did turn, his face was calm, but his eyes were ever cold as hard glacial rocks. He stated nothing more about the documents, and he sat the goblet onto the table, before he walked back slowly to take his seat in the circle. Once back in his seat, he turned the topic now to something else.

"I have been told by Thranduil of a troubling dream that I believe is relevant to to what we debate this day." And without asking Thranduil to recount it, Oropher spoke of the vision, but he did so with perfect accuracy, repeating the dream as it had been told to him by Thranduil.

It was only the chief-advisor who had not heard of the dream, and his eyes went wide with worry at hearing it. "What does this mean?" he asked. "That Thranduil dreams of war and death just before the Noldor came knocking at our door."

"I have wondered that myself." Oropher said. "But before I add my thoughts on that topic, I would ask Lord Glorfindel what his take on this is."

Glorfindel was unprepared for this question, but he quickly gathered his thoughts for his response. "Would I be the one to interpret such visions for the Greenwood? I cannot profess to say what these dreams are or are not." He stated aloud while he thought. He noticed that Oropher's eyes were staring intently at him, curious almost as he awaited his opinion.

"Surely the dreams must somehow tie in with the coming of this war, and is not related to another event that may or may not come to pass." Glorfindel stated the most obvious about the dream. "But with all the signs of what we know will come, the dream resounds to me that death and peril is what we may all find in the end, if our alliance is to fail. Our might just can not be broken, for if it does, death will come swiftly to us all. Together these tidings; the dream, my arrival, they are signs for you, Lord Oropher, that you must join in with the alliance."

Glorfindel instantly stooped his speech, regretting immediately the approach he had taken, when he saw Oropher's eyes flash more in anger. But what was said, was said, and it was the simple truth, even if Oropher cared not to hear it.

Eyes aglow with his ire, Oropher began speaking, but as he spoke, his voice and his face relaxed once more. "I would send you away now, because I care not to hear another word from your lips. But I will remain true to my word." Oropher finally responded. "Thranduil and my advisor have yet to offer their input, so please, Lord Glorfindel, if there is anything you wish to add, do it now before you loose your platform."

"Remember Eregion! Remember the war Sauron waged on us!" Glorfindel's voice cried. "Remember all the suffering and destruction that the hand of Sauron and his forces have brought to the elves. Sauron hates with a passion unequaled the First Born, and his wrath would be mighty and swift against the Greenwood. Remember Eregion, and how the mighty crumbled to ruin. The pain from those wounds still resound in my home, and I would not want that same pain to sting in the hearts of Greenwood's people. I know that you do not want this also." Glorfindel switched to an emotional plea, trying to play the King's heartstrings.

Oropher's eyes, as hard as stone, kept his intense gaze on Glorfindel. His mind spun the details of the war between the elves and Sauron in his mind, and he had to admit, the details were gruesome and caused him great distress. Oropher was not so cruel as to not mourn for the innocent who had been killed and wounded in the battles, although in a way, he had viewed it as almost poetic justice to those who were guilty. Even now, with the grim details that rendered the horrors and malevolent hatred that Sauron had with his need to control all others, Oropher could only remind himself that to become involved or aligned with the Noldor would only bring those hours that Glorfindel had alluded to, to their own knowing.

"Lord Glorfindel, we all know the travesties that have befallen the people of Arda by the hand of Sauron." Oropher wanted no more to hear the justification for the need of alliance. He knew the history already because even if isolation he wanted, the sad and woeful tidings of the other lands always ended up reaching his ears. And he of course knew of the foolishness of Celebrimbor who listened not to those whom he should have heeded. The Noldor had only themselves to blame, and Oropher replaced his sympathy with his ever persistent disdain for the Noldor.

Glorfindel quickly let his frustrations fade away as he realized that he could not sway Oropher with the use of emotional persuasion. Another strategy would have to be utilized if he were to break through to the stubborn Oropher.

"Greenwood will be attacked, in time. Sauron's plan is to destroy those who would oppose him will lead him right to your door. You are no friend of Sauron, and for that, you and your people will have to face him in the end. Tell me, can you really stand alone? Why not turn to your allies to help you in your fight?"

Oropher looked on without a response, although his eyes flashed more in anger. But instead of responding to Glorfindel, it was the advisor who spoke next.

"We have nothing here that would turn Sauron's attention to us. We meddle little in other's affairs and he knows we hold no alliance nor love for the Noldor, and have not came to their aid through these wars. Perhaps it may even be that while you all take on this fight and move to victory, that the realm of Greenwood would remain immune to his attention."

"No." Thranduil stated, interrupting the asinine reasoning of the counselor. "Our freedom to remain as we will, apart, independent, is contingent only on the outcome of a victory over Sauron. Do you risk that chance of our very existence on that the outcome of the alliance will prevail over Sauron? The will and strength of the alliance is mighty, but it is perilous to chance one's fortunes on the actions and outcomes of others. We must join this fight to preserve what is ours."

"Exactly." Glorfindel interjected before the counsellor could answer Thranduil's question, very much wanting to build on the wishes of Greenwood's terms. "You care to preserve the peace of your people and the independence of your realm, and by joining us in this march against our shared enemy, you can. We only ask for alliance, and nothing more…."

"Lies!" Oropher shouted, interrupting Glorfindel. "And the truth of the matter is that Gil-galad would have me and my army submit to his command. And with that first step of submitting, more demands and steps would only follow. I would rather die before I subject my people to the rule of the Noldor."

At those words from Oropher, Thranduil lowered his head, shaking visibly. "That is my darkest fear." He murmured under his breath. His words were audible however to the others in the room.

"Your dreams reaffirm just why we can not submit, Thranduil. Those dreams were sent to us in warning, just on the eve of the arrival of THIS vassal from Gil-galad. The dream is an omen that this is ill advice, guised in the request of alliance. If we submit, it will be the doom of our people."

"But what if we interpret both possibilities?" The advisor surprisingly added his thoughts. "What if the dreams came with the arrival of this request because to heed it not, would lead to our downfall?"

"This is Thranduil's interpretation." Oropher said. "And long have I pondered this riddle since the day he told me of it. But I can not turn my heart from the belief that this dream is a warning to stay away from the Noldor. It is simply not because of the wrongs they have done to me in ages long since past that I heed this warning." Oropher's eyes flashed in his anger, and he directed his gaze to Glorfindel.

"Nor is this interpretation because of the current acts from the Noldor. Even though we all know just how foolishly power hungry and crazed they easily become. I heed this dream because the message is clear to me. Death it warns! Not the death of any one person, as Thranduil has been led to believe, but the death of something far more important and profound. It foretells the end of our very sovereignty. It might all come to ruin if we begin to slowly open our doors to the Noldor. A simple alliance agreed on here could set a precedent for even more involvement and meddling. Who is not to say that the Noldor will not be requesting more alliances, more requests, more infiltration!" Oropher's eyes gleamed dangerously at Glorfindel, directing all the years of his furry at him, as if he was the whipping boy of the Noldor now.

"I fear what this alliance might mean to my people more so than I fear Sauron's armies. We are strong and we can fight and withstand an assault from any who would dare attack the Greenwood."

Glorfindel looked to Thranduil whose face looked as if Sauron had already defeated them all. But despite his displeased appearance, he stated nothing, as if he did not wish to set his father off further. Not even the chief-advisor had a response and all eyes turned to Glorfindel.

"I can only speak on behalf of this request of alliance, and for me to try to refute your fears about what may come to pass between the realms, would only be speculation on my part. I am not on the counsel of the High-King and I do not know his plans beyond this alliance."

Oropher calmed with Glorfindel's response, pleased that the mighty Glorfindel had admitted his limits.

Glorfindel pressed on. "I do believe however, that a real and growing threat of annihilation of our race should surmount a future fear that may never materialize."

"Surely the threat of Sauron is the greater of the two evils." The councilor added siding with Glorfindel's logic, much to Glorfindel's surprise. Although he little liked being labeled as an evil alongside Sauron, he decided not to protest this slight.

Oropher raised a curious eyebrow, although he was not surprised his advisor had poised this question. "Approaching a problem with a solution contrived by one's interlopers is certainly not in the best interest of the people that I have been charged to protect." Oropher said, obstinate as ever.

"But it is the best option that we have to preserve what you are charged to protect!" Thranduil added.

"Not as I see it." Oropher responded calmly, his mind set now. "We will see to the protection of the Greenwood and we will resist Sauron. I see little reason to march under the authority of the Noldor to achieve a victory over our enemy. The Noldor can do what they want, and when they want. We will be free to do the same, and will be the masters of our own decisions and wills. I led a fearless people into the wilderness to make a new home in the Greenwood. I will not throw all of what they did here in establishing this realm, nor will I throw the good of the people here to Noldorin rule."

"The only chance for peace and the silencing of Sauron will be this war." Glorfindel tried the logical approach with Oropher. "Do you abstain from war, and leave your peace to chance, or do you stop your enemy from attack? Lord Oropher, you can help stop a dreadful future, and you can assure peace for your people if you act."

"Such was it." Oropher stated absentmindedly, and his eyes seemed to reflect with the light from an age ago. "Such was it ever. Ever does evil grow and fester until its ruinous hands have their grasp on all. I will preserve peace and will do so here. I will not lead my people out to the subjugation of Noldorin rule. Thranduil, do you care to tell me what your opinion is on this matter?"

"I still believe with all my heart that we should answer the call of alliance. Now we see a threat the likes of which we have not seen for many years, and it rises against us all like a great turning tide. This is beyond what we alone can withstand, I am afraid." Thranduil said, voice distressed in its bare emotion. "I fear the cost of isolation against Sauron."

Oropher listened to Thranduil's words, frowning a little in his response. "Do not discredit the might of your own people, Thranduil. The Noldor offer nothing to us that I deem necessary for our own victory over those who would assault us."

Oropher finished his words, and then turned his eyes to his chief-advisor, signifying that he wanted to hear his closing opinions now.

"I have heard both argument today, and although we agree that Sauron must be defeated if peace we will have, that is all we have agreed on. There is a differing of opinions here, and I do not think that even Sauron can bring us together. Long have I listened today to all of your words, and I now have made my mind up. I can not agree that the Greenwood should march under Gil-galad. I believe our place is here and that we should stay under broad and green leaves and protect our own boundaries. The people here hold steadfast to their home and we should not ask them to part from it in their march to war. They will flight valiantly here, if war does find us. I do not agree to alliance, but Gil-galad and the Noldor should know that we hold Sauron as a sordid enemy. We will resist and silence all his allies should they come to assault us."

Oropher paused, taking in all that had been said, and he studied the faces who watched in intense anticipation of his words regarding what his verdict was.

"Gil-galad cares not for our council, but would only use us as he sees fit. I make my stance known now, Lord Glorfindel, and I have to say that I will never march under the command of Gil-galad. The Noldor can go to war with the forces that they have. The Greenwood will not be a buffer nor will we be vassals that Gil-galad can toy with. I will see to the protection of my own realm and my own people. You can tell Gil-galad that I will not answer his call of alliance. He will never have command of my people!"

Both Thranduil and Glorfindel's eyes went wide, and Thranduil opened his mouth to protest, but Oropher's stern gaze caused him to remain silent. Glorfindel on the other hand decided to throw all diplomacy to the wind and finally speak his mind to Oropher.

"Sauron will never be satisfied until all lands are under his control. We need to attack before he has the time to cover our lands under his veil. Would you really keep your people isolated under this constant threat? Our armies will be engaged. No one will march to your aid. You are not as strong as you think. Do you risk the utter collapse and enslavement of the people you wish to protect?"

"There is malice even in the the guise of allies. I do what is best for my people. Marching under Gil-galad and Noldorin control is something that I would never subject my people to. I have seen far too much evil committed by the hands of our "allies" to ever submit to your king."

Glorfindel understood just how set Oropher was on his decision, but still he was not ready to admit defeat.

"It is the call that all who cherish and protect peace and freedom should answer. We view you as an ally, and equal, and invite our woodland friends to help in the planning of the war plans. March with us, defend your people! Defeat the evil that threatens all that is good in this land."

"No!" Said Oropher. "This debate is over. You will depart tomorrow and once you return, you can deliver the news of your failure to your masters. Tell them that the Greenwood will never submit to Gil-galad's commands. Tell them that if there were any truth to his words of friendship, that we may have answered, but I can see through his lies. The Noldor will not have the souls of the Greenwood."

Glorfindel let Oropher's words echo in his mind. The more he heard the more each word struck him like a blow to his heart and soul, pounding into him until he felt nothing but numbness. He had no retort, no fight left and he rose in a stunned silence, and left the council room in his anger and his stunned disbelief.

Oropher smiled in victory at seeing Glorfindel's reactions. How stupid had Glorfindel really been, to think that he could come here to the Greenwood and convince him to bow to the whims of the Noldor. He looked over at the documents that Glorfindel had brought with him. He did not care to compose a single word in response to what Gil-galad had written to send away with Glorfindel. He didn't even want to read the documents that requested alliance. He would have Galion toss those documents out or burn them at some point.

Thranduil stood, finally breaking the stillness that had settled in the room. However, he only took two steps towards the door to follow Glorfindel, but Oropher's calling of his name stopped him. Slowly with hard and angry eyes, Thranduil turned to face his father. He didn't speak, and silently waited for Oropher's words.

But Oropher as well kept the silence in the room, holding the disappointed glare from his son. It was disheartening to Oropher that Thranduil could not understand why they should stay out of the politics of the Noldor. He had thought that he had made his point clear. The justification was to be found in the blood on the hands of the Noldor, and those grievances had never healed. Oropher almost felt that Thranduil had lost his way, fully bewitched by the blasted Glorfindel. But soon he would be gone and the spell would lift. And it couldn't disappear soon enough. They needed to prepare in case of an attack from Sauron.

Oropher had already began to piece together his own plans for the Greenwood's resistance of Sauron. He would place more duty on Thranduil's shoulders. It was time for his son to change from being a healer to a true guardian of the forest. Ever had Thranduil wanted to live a gentle life as a humble healer, and Oropher had let him, but he had indulged in that art for far too long. Now was the time for him to train and become a real warrior, and his gentle soul would transform. Thranduil needed to understand and set his mind with the same beliefs he had.

He knew that Thranduil feared his dreams, but Oropher was positive that if they stayed out of he path of the Noldor, they would stay safer. They could defend their own and they could keep Sauron from covering their lands under his oppressive domination. To hell with the Noldor! Let their lies woo the minds of lesser beings. Oropher knew that he would not march under or even with the Noldor in this alliance of theirs. His army would remain in the Greenwood, and together with Thranduil, they would protect the only people that he cared enough to die for.

"It is for the best, your decision." The chief-advisor finally broke the tension and silence that hung in the room. "I will never forget the stifling politics of the Noldor from when I lived in Lindon. I would rather leave these lands forever before I submit to their governing again. And I do believe that my heart would break if the good people here were to get tangled in their webs of lies and deceit."

Oropher regarded the words as the perfect response to his reasoning, but Thranduil only shook his head at hearing those words.

"In times of peace, I too agree with your reasoning, my King. But these are not those times. You understand that our peace has long since been broken, and that we are only living an illusion here. Sauron does not look at our divides, and views Noldor and Silvan as one and the same. He would enslave us all, and it should be for our common enemy that we join together to defeat him."

"We will join, but on our own terms. If the armies of Sauron march on our lands, we will fight them. But again, I repeat Thranduil, the Greenwood does not march as part of the alliance to Mordor." Oropher's tone had matched the same harshness that he had used moments ago with Glorfindel.

Thranduil's heart had crashed and felt like it had been broken. Just like Glorfindel, he had little fight left. Thranduil knew that Oropher did not want to debate any longer and to press him further would only illicit further anger. Perhaps at a later time he could get his father to reconsider. But no, he thought within. Oropher's word was law, and he did not want to be in rebellion with so many threats at their door.

"I do not believe this is over." Thranduil said, and when Oropher did not respond, Thranduil left the room.

Oropher had been very close to lashing out at Thranduil regarding Glorfindel, but he could read just how dejected his son was. No, it was better not to walk that path, for he couldn't risk losing Thranduil to anger over someone that didn't matter in the end. Now was not the time for anger, not when his plans were so close to transpiring.

"Patience, Thranduil." He breathed. "Patience. The days are still not yet so dark, and you will still find your joy even before this coming storm of war."

The advisor looked at Oropher, face thoughtful while he pondered the words that he had heard, taking them in as he understood their meaning. "I will look forward to this coming joy. It is what our lands need. A new hope in life. And also do I look forward to the change that is much needed in Thranduil, for although he is strong and is thoughtful, he gives little care to the consequences of his actions."

Oropher nodded, a little regretful that he was now required to give his son the not so gentle push he had always been so hesitant to give. But the times were worrisome, and he feared for the Greenwood. Thranduil's dream had troubled him like nothing else had for many long years. It pained his heart and it pooled in his mind. He had made his choice for what he thought was the best course of action. The storm was coming, and he wondered if he could provide the proper shelter to his people when it finally did engulf them. For better or for worse, his choice had been made.

The Greenwood would remain isolated when war finally did come for them all.


	12. Liquid Running

Back in his rooms, Glorfindel slammed the door behind him, not caring if he disturbed the guards or other inhabitants that called this citadel home. He stormed into his bedchamber, flinging himself onto the bed. Unmoving, he laid there, and the minutes that passed saw him neither stir or exhibit any expression of his emotions. Deceptively, he sprawled out, laying still, serene and almost peaceful. However, in his mind, a steady stream of thoughts boiled within. Beyond frustrated and unable to subdue what welled within, he finally sat upright, as if his anger and frustration had erupted within him. He heard the rustling of thousands of leaves outside and he stood, as if entranced by the sound, moving out to the balcony. With a racing mind he looked beyond the city in the glade, and out into the forest that surrounded them. He breathed deep, but the beauty of the forest just could not settle his mood and bring him solace.

There would be no alliance with Oropher's people. He had failed. All the weeks he had spent in days of frustrations, in reflection, in the wonderment of the Greenwood, had all ended in complete and utter failure. Glorfindel turned away from the forest, not caring to let its beauty charms ensnarl him anymore. He wasn't use to failure, and he returned back to his bed. There he sat numb, unmoving, stunned. But he knew that his debate with Oropher was over. Oropher's words had been his final verdict. And Glorfindel was coming to believe that there would be no more room for debate, rebuttal, or even reconsideration with the Greenwood King.

He had been ordered to leave in the morning, and he would. And with this knowing, his heart broke, it bleed. His head hurt, and his soul cried out from within. This was not suppose to be the outcome. He was not suppose to fail. Had this not been why Gil-galad had sent him here, to breathe reason into the Greenwood King? He had argued his points, and Oropher knew his words were true. But Oropher would not see reason, even if that shadow had fallen across his heart, and he knew that peace would never come until Sauron was destroyed.

Glorfindel continued to sit on the bed defeated, tired. He thought of the past long weeks. The journey here to the Greenwood had started with such excitement, with wonderment, with the pull of a yearning to see and know these great lands. And he had found all of that here, and even more than he had expected. But it all had crumbled down around him in complete and utter failure.

And then there was Thranduil.

He let that other's name enter his mind. He was pained to now have to walk away from that beautiful enigma. What a mess he had made and what a bigger mess he was leaving now. Glorfindel saw it within the other's eyes, the want, the need, the love.

He shuddered. Love was not the intent he had anticipated nor had he wanted. How had Thranduil so easily turned from infatuation, to lust and then to love? That emotion was in his eyes, so vividly reflected from the burning in his heart. And Glorfindel felt guilt, and wondered if he should have just resisted those advances, and if he should have denied the surrender of his will. But oh how he had enjoyed it all, and yearned for it still.

Glorfindel sighed, and he felt almost lost. His relationship with Thranduil did not matter now. It was over, even though it had just begun. He was leaving, and Thranduil would remain, and he doubted their paths would ever cross again. Oropher would make sure of that. And if the flames of war did not claim them both, they would only live apart, steadfast in their respective lands. The time they had spent together here would simply be a moment in the vast's of time, a bright star within the folds of their immortal lives whose cherished light would soon dim to nothing but a distant memory. They both would move on, because Glorfindel knew their love could never be.

A gentle rapping on his chamber door drew him from his thoughts. Glorfindel sat unmoving, knowing who it was who came to him now. He should rise, he thought, but his legs just would not move. Again the knock on his door sounded, and again he gave just his pause. No words, no movement. Again another knock came with much more force, sounding like the other had slammed his fist into the door with all of the crashing of his emotions.

Glorfindel knew that Thranduil was just as angry as he was, but even more so, because his anger was fueled by love. A love that just could not be. He waited for the knocking to come again, but instead the still silence was all that followed. Glorfindel still sat on his bed, too pained to move, too beaten to care. He would leave this place, and his mood would clear. The peaceful valley in Imladris would heal him and his strength would return. Thranduil would fade like the stars in the sky. The fine of his light would slowly dim within his eyes, and within his mind. There was simply no room or place for a love between them. He would lock his heart away and he would find joy and pleasure in others. And Thranduil had to learn that lesson as well. The Greenwood could never be his home.

Glorfindel rose now, satisfied with his logic. Anor would soon set, and Ithil would soon start her journey across the night sky. He frowned. His journey had begun in promise, in hope, but it had only ended in failure. And war was coming. The coming days seemed now so bleak, so uncertain. He knew that dinner was starting, but he could not partake. He little wanted to face those smug faces and eyes celebrating their victory.

What victory was it however? He wondered what price they would ultimately pay when finally their isolation would know its repercussions? How bitter would the Greenwood's tears be? Would those tears fall like liquid diamonds, flowing without solace from the souls who called this forest home? The forest's true gems would be left alone, falling within the darkness.

Thranduil had seen it, he knew it, but his words had been met with scorn and with silence. Ignored, ridiculed, twisted. But Oropher would heed not his words. Glorfindel knew he saw the signs, he knew he recognized the warnings. He knew that Oropher understood the consequences. And yet, he would not act, believing the fight was not for him or his people. And Glorfindel too felt as if the bitter tears that had yet to be shed would instead well up now within him. His soul bleed, his heart was pained, and he was helpless to it all. All his might, his power, his wisdom had not caused Oropher to see that reason.

There was nothing more for him to do here. He looked over his items, and slowly began packing them away. He would leave the Greenwood before the dawn, and he wondered if he would ever look back.

\------------

Night had settled now over the heart of Greenwood. Ithil was shinning above the canopy, although her light was masked below with the forest's broad and countless leaves. Glorfindel had finally ventured out from his rooms, and he walked, unhindered by the guards or residents who called this forest home. He moved as if in a dream, taking in the surreal realization of having lost. There was no alliance with the Greenwood, and he felt no hope. He looked on the faces of the guards that he passed by in the halls. They regarded him not and Glorfindel wandered about their fates. He wondered if their paths would ever cross again.

The halls were mostly empty, with dim hanging lanterns that cast dancing shadows on the stone floor and tall arched walls. The shadows moved as if they too wept for the uncertainty that they all faced. Dark and foreboding, the citadel seemed different now. No sounds penetrated through the thick walls, and Glorfindel's silent footsteps could not even penetrate through to his despondent mind. It was as if he did not walk, so silent was his footsteps.

He really did not have a destination that he wished to find. He simply wanted to take these distant halls in one last time, knowing he would most likely never return to Oropher's realm. The madness that was Oropher's labyrinth of halls was the only distraction that could ease his aching heart, and mounting anger. And the maddening design was working. His mind was clearing, and he felt an uneasy calm start to replace the disappointment he was feeling. His reflection was interrupted when he sensed a familiar presence. Glorfindel stopped, realizing that he was not alone.

"Ah, the Lord Glorfindel does still haunt our halls." Thranduil's words were cold, and his eyes were icy, so unlike the sparking gems that had greeted him throughout his stay. "I thought you perhaps had already left us." Thranduil walked in front of him, eyes piercing with the emotions that pulled through him.

"I leave on the morrow, Thranduil." Glorfindel kept his words even, unfaltering, strong.

"So it is true. You give up so easily?"

The words could have easily been a lament on more than just his anger or the failed alliance, but Glorfindel chose only to address that topic. "There is nothing more that I can say nor do. Your King's mind is set."

Glorfindel regarded his friend. Thranduil's face reflected his anger, and his hurt. His eyes still reflected the ice of his temperament, cold and slightly dejected. He made no effort to mask his emotions, letting every single manifestation from his heart and soul reflect through his eyes and face.

Glorfindel pondered Thranduil's question. A part of his heart did want to stay and fight, and not just for the alliance. But the greater part of his heart also knew of the complications of their relationships, and he knew that he was only driving the divide between Oropher and Thranduil further. He had to go now. Creating a rift between father and son was the last thing the Greenwood needed. Both Oropher and Thranduil needed each other, and needed their strong connection when war finally would come to these lands. Glorfindel was playing a dangerous game, and he feared the outcome.

"I will not continue to be that something that divides you from your father. For the sake of the Greenwood, your people, you two need to stand together."

"If you really care for the Greenwood's people, you would somehow find a way to forge this alliance."

"No, my friend." Glorfindel shook his head, finally realizing why he had been sent here. It was so poignantly simple. "The power to persuade Oropher to align was never to be found in me. It is however, in you."

He watched as Thranduil's eyes regarded him with the confusion of his words, large green eyes demanded a further explanation.

"I understand it all now, that if an alliance is to happen, it will be so because of you. You alone can match your father's will and can convince him to join us in the fight. This request is beyond what I can plead."

"Then what brought you here if you say that you are so powerless? Are you really so presumptuous to believe it was to come here just to bring your strength to me for the challenging of my father?"

"Have you really cared before I came here Thranduil? Or did you just simply live your life under his shadow? In merriment? In carelessness, blowing as an aimless leaf that simply only cared to dance in the wind? Have you ever heard that calling to forget yourself and put everything else before you? There is a greatness in you that even you do not see and recognize. I am not even sure if your father sees this within you, but I recognize it. You burn bright, but you lack purpose. You let Oropher dictate your life and I am not sure why. That is one riddle I have not yet solved about you."

Thranduil's eyes flashed in greater anger now. And for the first time, Glorfindel saw his alabaster skin flush with his emotions. His eyes hardened further, brows narrowed, and he stepped closer to him, mirroring almost Oropher's mannerisms.

But then he stopped, and a smile replaced the scowl on his face. Slowly his features softened, and his eyes were the gentle green of the calm summer forest.

"Such words you speak, but I hear them not because I know what is your aim. You try to push me away, but I will not let you."

"No Thranduil. My words must reach you. I have never known you to ignore wise council. Do not follow the path your father has."

But again, his words were ignored.

"Request another meeting with the King! Petition him! Challenge him! Do not just heed his words and leave on his request! You have evaded his will before. Find another way to do it again!"

Glorfindel shook his head, as he watched the utter breaking of a heart before him. He had not fully understood the full extent of Thranduil's love for him. This was no longer about the alliance, but instead was about the yearning and want he had for him. It was so apparent, so obvious, striped bare like the night sky that spilled the light of its stars. His green eyes were stormy, swimming full of his emotions that seemed to crash within those orbs. Thranduil's eyes pulled his heart to ache, but this could never be. His heart was not his to give to Thranduil, just as Thranduil's heart belonged within and to the Greenwood.

"No, Thranduil. Your King is right. The time for me to depart his lands is now. There is nothing more for me to say or do here. My time has ended here. The little chance of the call to alliance hangs by a single thread, and that thread is in your hands now. My own King and Lord need me now. With that attack on Gondor, the call for a greater alliance would have already commenced. I need to join them now for the planning. There is nothing more for me to do within the Greenwood. You must come to accept this for your own good."

Thranduil laughed a little, but he soon regained his composure, keeping a silent facade when one of his father's guards walked past them. Needing to continue this conversation, Thranduil grabbed Glorfindel, digging his sharp fingernails into the others soft flesh.

Glorfindel knew the act was nothing more than a manifestation of his hurt, and he decided not to protest as Thranduil dragged him into a room. Once inside the room, he expected the conversation to continue, but Thranduil just grinned at him, wicked, as if in jest.

"I would like to give you just one more impression of my home. You'll need something to remember as you make that long journey back." Thranduil murmured, leading him into another passage that opened from its hidden spot within the wall.

Intrigued, Glorfindel did not protest, but instead he followed Thranduil, not at all surprised to learn of more hidden passages to be found within this spiraling citadel. He laughed within as he thought that there was method to the madness, and order within Oropher's paranoia. He curiously now wondered where Thranduil would lead him. The tunnel wound and turned within its walls. Thranduil opened another passage, leading him to who knows where, Glorfindel mused.

"Does your father's madness know no end?" Glorfindel wondered aloud, as they walked down some stairs.

"Sometimes one just needs to move unseen. Now is that not so, dear Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel could only shake his head, not use to this side of Thranduil that he had yet to come across. He didn't like the tone, the bitter bit. It reminded him too much of Oropher, so sardonic. But unlike Oropher, it was the emotions of love, and not hate that drove him. Glorfindel suddenly decided that he was glad to be leaving the Greenwood, as he was too overwhelmed with the strong emotions and duality found within the forest and its inhabitants.

"Is there much further to go?'"

Glorfindel mused, caring not to respond to Thranduil's earlier comment. He almost collided with Thranduil who suddenly had stopped. Thranduil turned, and looked at him. He kept his eyes on him, as he pushed on a panel on the wall, that opened into a very large valeted room. Glorfindel wordlessly followed him in, turning to see that the door they had entered in had vanished behind them.

"The treasury, Thranduil?" Glorfindel was confused.

Thranduil only just smiled at him, as he seated himself on a trunk. His wicked eyes continued to tease Glorfindel, and he let them shine transparent, dripping with his yearning for Glorfindel.

"Why ever would you bring me here?" Glorfindel continued to question, trying to ignore the cryptic behavior of his friend. "Is there a reason?" Glorfindel was lost for an explanation. Maybe he had just driven Thranduil to madness with his words.

"I want to remember you amongst the gems that we treasure, for you will only be a memory to me, locked within the vault of my heart." He held a transparent gem up to his eyes, moving it in his hand, looking through the cuts of the stone that distorted Glorfindel through its light.

Glorfindel grew annoyed and amused all at once. He was upset, exhausted. He didn't want to play these games with Thranduil, but at the same time, he strangely did. The emotions that tore through Thranduil had flushed his skin, and caused his eyes to shimmer more. Thranduil was stunning, and beautiful in his vulnerability of his exposed emotions. No enigma, no mystery.

"And do you like what you see?" Glorfindel continued standing, looking into Thranduil's strangely hypnotic gaze.

"Maybe." Thranduil said, blinking slowly. "Do you not like what you see?"

Glorfindel studied Thranduil once more. His eyes were haunted. His flushed skin still showed the fading signs of the bruising and cuts from his fight. His eyes reflected his longing, his want. And Glorfindel had to admit, this show he was putting on now was strangely effective. It was almost too effective.

'Do not do this.' His legs ignored what his mind commanded. Instead of staying away, he was at Thranduil's side, sitting by him, whose emerald eyes outshone all the treasures that were held within the room.

"You say there is nothing for you here." Thranduil purred, glaring genuinely pained by the cold dismissal that stung his heart.

"It was never meant to be Thranduil. You were not suppose to lose your heart to me. You knew just like I do that your place is here, and this is not my home. Oropher would never welcome me here. You need to let these feelings go."

"And you can just so easily? Run away Glorfindel! Retreat for all I care. But I am not so convinced that this is truly what you want. If your words were true, why are you here beside me now?"

Delusional, Glorfindel thought. Absolutely impossible even. "If I am not mistaken, Thranduil. It was you who dragged me and led me here."

"Led, yes, but I did not drag you. You are strong enough to resist what it is you do not want. But yet, here you are. Ponder me that riddle now." Thranduil smirked. Glorfindel had lost again.

A thousand different thoughts and emotions crashed within Glorfindel's mind and stung at his heart. But the fire in his loins was simply impossible for him to ignore. He grabbed Thranduil, pulling him close for a crushing and controlling kiss. He held tight onto Thranduil's back, forcing the kiss on him, caring not if he hurt his still healing back.

Thranduil accepted the kiss at first, teasing him even with the yearning in it. But then he moved back suddenly, breaking from the kiss and his hold, pushing Glorfindel back onto some rolls of soft delicate fabrics.

"Not so easy!" He growled. "What makes you think that I would continue to let you just keep on taking when your heart is already back in Imladris now?"

"As if you could resist." Glorfindel laughed, with mocking tones evident. "Thranduil the longing you have for me is as plain as the light of day. You would beg for me, if I only asked."

Thranduil smiled, almost daring with his eyes for the command to get on his knees before Glorfindel, but that command did not come. Instead Glorfindel grabbed him close again, pulling Thranduil in for a kiss. But Thranduil moved away, laughing with his anger.

"Do not reach for me, when your heart and mind are already ready to leave."

"Thranduil…." Glorfindel started to speak, but was cut off.

"I do not want to talk, Glorfindel. There is nothing more for us to say."

"Thranduil." Glorfindel pulled Thranduil in gently, with soft and tender caresses. He wanted to illustrate just how much he cared for Thranduil, and to show him just how much this hurt him as well.

Even though Thranduil relaxed and calmed with the embrace and the gentle caresses, he only just pushed Glorfindel away again, fueled with the frustrations of his anger. It wasn't an anger at Glorfindel however, but was instead manifested from his own disgust of his uncontrollable emotions.

"Why do I need you? Why can I not let this go? There is no love that you can give me that would make this alright. Not when your home is where I can not belong. We can not be together, anywhere." He cried out, hanging his head. "I know this, I truly do. This was already over before it began. What ever drove me to taste what could never be mine?"

Glorfindel sighed, understanding the words that Thranduil spoke. His words were like a lament from his own crying heart. "I have no regrets, and will think back fondly of that night. Could you not do the same? Instead of this being your great tormentor, could this no be one of your fondest memories?"

"You flatter yourself." Thranduil laughed, even though he frowned.

"No, what I see within your eyes tells me everything, even what you wish to hide."

"How unfortunate for me then, condemned to yearn for someone who is so easy to give up."

Thranduil's face flashed now, his logic had been lost, completely overwhelmed with the love he felt for Glorfindel. He moved down by him onto the luscious fabrics.

"The love I have for you could melt these very diamonds." Thranduil whispered into Glorfindel's ear.

He then traced the outline of Glorfindel's ear with his finger, slowly, sensuously, eliciting shivers and tingles that ran down Glorfindel's spine. Again, Thranduil's lips were right at Glorfindel's ears. "I see that you tremble under my hand."

Glorfindel laughed as he felt the tingling of his spine move into his heart. His heart beat faster, deifying him and his want to just walk away from this. It pounded with so much emotion. Defeat, pain, exhaustion, and the want to escape this all crashed with his arousal, and the strange illusion that their love was not yet over.

He moved his gaze into Thranduil's eyes, seeing such strength and fire within them. Thranduil was strong. Glorfindel had no doubt that he would be able to be the reason and the strength and fire for the Greenwood. Thranduil somehow would prevail when he had not. He would forge the alliance with the Greenwood and the Noldor. He would be the reason and the force that would see the Greenwood through this war. He would match Oropher. Glorfindel held no doubt.

"Your thoughts linger on me, yet you retreat within your mind. Where has your mind gone just now? What has captured your attention, and would outshine even me?"

Thranduil asked, watching as Glorfindel's attention came back on him. Glorfindel reached for him. This time, Thranduil yielded, as he had come to realize that soon, Glorfindel would be gone, and maybe gone forever. But maybe forever would not be their fates. Maybe their worlds would somehow collide again. The future was so uncertain. He desperately needed to have Glorfindel one last time, and that was the only thought that ran through his mind. The yearning he had for Glorfindel muted all other thoughts in his mind.

Gladly Thranduil yielded to the strong yet tender hands that brushed against his face, and he closed his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears that wanted to break free. But his heart was simply stronger than his will. He felt an anger rise in the back of his mind when one tear managed to escape from his closed eye. With all the will he had, he forced the rest away, while he quickly wiped the lone tear away in disgust. He took a deep breath, and focused with all of his attention to Glorfindel's rich and melodic voice.

"These emotions are the same for me." Glorfindel watched him wipe his tear away, and he commented on the emotions that he had seen from Thranduil. Glorfindel felt the same. He was not sure what caused his heart to weep more. Was it the failure of alliance, or was it because he had to walk away from Thranduil forever?

"But Thranduil, we both must understand that we have very important roles to play within our own worlds. You and I both love the Greenwood. With the love I have developed for the people here, I would not tear you asunder from those who need you most. The need they have for you outweighs the yearning that I have for you."

Thranduil smiled, and he understood the words that Glorfindel was speaking, however, his heart began to pound more with the pain of knowing that Glorfindel would leave him behind.

"No."

His mind looped back to the emotions that had drove him to pull Glorfindel into this room. "This is not how this ends. We are stronger than Oropher. Will you not go to him, and demand just one more meeting?"

Glorfindel did not respond to the question, but instead he pulled Thranduil down again, fueled by a fire that flamed within his heart and loins. They kissed and although each could feel and taste the emotions that stormed within their hearts and minds, the kiss itself was very satisfying and pulled them both to the forgetting of the failure of the Greenwood's acceptance of the alliance. As they kissed, even the knowing of the ending of their time together vanished, and only the here and now was all that mattered. Soon all that burned within their minds was the desire they had for each other.

Without words they disrobed as quickly as possible, caring not to drag out the gentle and caring foreplay they had shared but just a night before. The lantern light cast down golden hues on their skin, washing them in sensual and warm tones. To Thranduil, Glorfindel's golden hair seemed to come ablaze, shining as liquid gold.

"Show me how you can melt these gems." Glorfindel whispered in his ear. And Glorfindel again pulled him in for a kiss and together they rolled back onto the fabric.

"One last taste." Glorfindel thought, wondering if he and Thranduil would ever reunite. The times of war could tear the lands to ruin, and he desperately wanted one last taste, even if this knowing was nothing more than the delusions of lustful desire.

Glorfindel's eyes focused on Thranduil's tempting lips, but instead of capturing them like he wanted to do, he playfully bit onto the soft flesh of Thranduil's neck. He sucked the skin, while he moved his hands over his body. Thranduil responded hungrily, pulling Glorfindel's face to his own, kissing him back as he embraced the sensations, moaning through his kisses as his body came alive

Whereas their time together last had been gentle in the dizzying fervor of their longing and want, now they were driven by their emotions that manifested in nails and teeth, scratching and biting on tender and heated flesh. Instead of the gentle trails of tender kisses, red angry love bites and scratches marred their skin, from neck to knees. As if by acting out their frustrations, it seemed to them that they would draw ever closer, forging a connection that would bind them together through the ages.

The emotions of their want for each other, the failed agreement of alliance, their impending sundering was the fuel to the catalyst that drove their ardent fervor. Like a mad and hastened dash, they worked each others body, driving with force the mounting release of their want.

Lacking proper lubrication, Glorfindel spit onto his hands before he jammed a finger into Thranduil's eager passage. His actions were rewarded by an arching of an elegant neck, and moans of eagerness, as Thranduil gave into the breach. He gazed up at Glorfindel intensely with a burning fire in his eyes. Glorfindel saw green eyes flash at him with a whirlwind of emotions, igniting Thranduil's eyes in an unnatural intensity. His green orbs burned brighter than the jewels in the room.

Whereas their last embrace was marked with sensuous exploration and wonderment, now Glorfindel worked the preparation of Thranduil quickly, as if to release his frustrations within the fervent pace he sat. Thranduil accepted the preparations with eagerness and hunger, but then he suddenly sat upright, pushing Glorfindel back onto the ground, ignoring his curious gaze. He moved his mouth near Glorfindel's weeping cock, and he took it into his mouth, coating it completely with his own saliva. He then climbed atop Glorfindel, straddling him, looking down at him with his burning green eyes. Down he moved, until he had fully impaled himself onto Glorfindel. Both felt intense pleasure fill them, shooting to their core. Thranduil began to rock his hips, while Glorfindel thrust beneath him, upwards. Pleasure rolled within them, and through their hearts and minds.

A pace that was both maddening but sensuous drove them onward. They moved as if the friction they created would yield an everlasting connection. Maddening as the games of deceit, they fully became engrossed within their pleasure, lost and overwhelmed as their orgasms slowly began to consume them. And Glorfindel opened his eyes to see the warm lantern lights set the room ablaze, as if the room had caught on fire. It was as if Thranduil's words indeed were true, that the passion that they shared now had made all the treasures melt. He closed his eyes, shutting out the spinning room as his mounting release was soon upon him. The only thing stronger than the impending orgasms that they were riding, was the numerous emotions that had fueled them to this release of their emotions and passion.

It didnt take either of them long to orgasm, as both were emotionally and physically exhausted. Thranduil collapsed atop Glorfindel, who pulled him in for a surprisingly tender kiss. Both were spent, physically as well as emotionally. And Thranduil melted into Glorfindel's strong and soothing embrace. Those strong arms wrapped around him like the warm embrace of summer. And even though his body had found release, still his lament could little be silenced. A despondent sigh escaped his lips.

"Tell me when, I will not need you anymore."

Glorfindel did not answer Thranduil's sigh, he simply couldn't respond. Instead he held the other close to him. Thranduil was breathing softly, seemingly wanting to drift to sleep. But they remained awake, lingering in the embrace as if this time they now shared would forever remain frozen if they but did not move. It was finally Thranduil who broke the silence, voice as soft as a whisper, fueled with his still burning emotions.

"Do you still depart on the dawn's arrival, or have you yet changed your mind?" Thranduil wasn't sure why he asked Glorfindel such, when he already knew the answer. He did not want to believe it however, still fueled with a faint hope that Glorfindel had somehow changed his mind. He never felt such yearning for another before, even beyond the want he had thought he could ever feel for Glorfindel. But the simple and horrifying truth was that he had lost his heart. And even if and when he would find another to love, part of his heart would forever remain touched by Glorfindel. That imprint had been made. There was no saving of his heart from this.

"You know that this is how and when we say goodbye." Glorfindel sat up now, and began to dress, not wanting at all to loop around the denials of that simple truth. There was no place for him in the Greenwood, and he could not let his heart go. This had undeniably been harder to resist than his part experiences. But the simple logistics made it much more easier for him to end it. He would remain free and unburdened, and he would keep a clear head when the time to march to war finally approached.

"I hate that you go to where I can not follow."

Thranduil's words were a true lament, and his green eyes danced with unshed tears while he watched Glorfindel finish dressing. He knew the night had long since arrived and the chasing dawn would all too soon drive them apart forever. As much as he wanted Glorfindel to stay, he knew that Glorfindel was needed back in Imladris. And he knew that he could not follow Glorfindel. It simply was not fair to the people of his father's realm for him to abandon them on a whim for love. Glorfindel had been wrong. He did not put himself above others. He had vowed long ago to serve the people here, even if that meant neglecting his own heart and his own desires.

Glorfindel only smiled at Thranduil's words, realizing that he finally understood why their love could never be. There was nothing more for them to say to one another. He watched through jaded eyes as Thranduil continued to sit like a haunted statue on the soft fabrics of deep burgundy. Barrels of gold were stacked around him, and shelves of rare gems and stones reflected the lanterns in the room. But none of those gems came close to Thranduil's beauty. Glorfindel had to look away.

And with a heart as hard as one of the gems, Glorfindel did not look back or speak another word to Thranduil. His heavy footsteps led him to the hidden door on the wall, and he opened it. He maneuvered through the hidden passages, as if he journeyed through the tangled and fragmented thoughts in his mind and in his heart. Although he was almost in a trance, Glorfindel found that door that opened up to the familiar room. He paused, before he stepped into the room. Thranduil had not followed him, and he wondered if he lingered still in the treasury, locked within his sadness and anger. Glorfindel closed his eyes, forcing the beginnings of his bitter tears to halt in their progressions.

Moving quickly out of the room, as if distance would lift his mood, Glorfindel hurried down the citadel's halls, heading to his room. The hour was late and he wanted rest. It was a delusional thought he knew. No rest would come to him this night even if he tried to will it to be so. Perhaps, he should just sneak off now and delay no further his long journey home. He doubted that Oropher would mind if he lingered here no further. But no, he decided to delay his departure because while he was still here, there was still fool's hope. It was best to stay just one more night. Soon the hour of his departure would be upon him anyways.

While he was still here there was still the small possibility that Oropher might come to his senses. Glorfindel shook his head, still not ready to doubt that an alliance would be forged with the Greenwood. Even though he had told Thranduil that there was nothing more for him to do here, he still believed that his mission had not failed.

Back in his rooms, the sundering that he felt now from Thranduil hit his heart like the force of a blow that griped him with a violent rush of emotions. The frown that had not left his face, deepened further, and Glorfindel seated himself on the sofa, as if he had no choice. HIs emotions flowed through his mind like a lamenting chant. Thranduil and he had only been dreaming, for their love could never be. It was with bitter realization that on waking from this dream that the undeniable truth crashed within his mind. There was no place for their love. It could never be.

Thranduil would stay in the depths of his heart.

Glorfindel let his heavy head fall within his hands, and he cradled his head as if the gesture would suppress the release of his sadness. He feared the lingering emotions of his desires. In the coming of war, would the emotions of his heart strings divide his mind further? And he hoped that his surrender to his desire and the dreams he had would not haunt them both in the coming years. But still, Glorfindel knew that the pain that stung his heart was the true manifestations of his love for Thranduil. His heart was simply telling him that he as well had fallen in love. Glorfindel felt a fear tear through his heart and mind, and it echoed through his body.

He knew it was time to go.


	13. At the Bend In the Road

Glorfindel awoke with a startle, as one who was not aware that they had somehow drifted to sleep at some point in the night. Somehow he had fallen into slumber during the long progression of the night, and he blinked his eyes, trying to gauge just what time it was. Anor had not yet strengthened to soften the strong hold of the dark mantles of the lingering night. He rose quickly and without delay, dressing with an absentminded numbness as he finished the readying for his departure.

When he left his rooms, he was greeted by Galion who handed him a bag of provisions for the long journey back to his home. The halls they passed through were still in this early morning, void of any eyes to see him off. And to Glorfindel, the rushed departure he now made was almost like he was being ushered out as quickly as possible, as if he were a dark secret that had never happened. It made him feel like he was a presence that had never haunted the Greenwood. He moved down the grand halls, taking this strange citadel in just one more time. He wondered if he would ever be back, but he doubted he would.

He stepped into the forest, still so cool in the dark before the rise of the dawn, and he saw that his horse was already waiting for him. Galion kept his silence as he secured the items on his horse and only gave instructions when he had finished with his task. Galion told him a guide would lead him through the forest, until he would find the road that cut through the glades to the west. Again, Galion's words were cold, and his distant demeanor was not lost on Glorfindel. He had no allies here. This was all too evident to him now. Oropher and Thranduil were not here to even see him off. Glorfindel couldn't help but frown in his lamenting of this whole situation.

"The forest is either your friend or foe….."

Galion's words from days ago filtered back. Friend or foe. There was no in-between. No grey area. It was definitely time to leave. He took the reigns of his horse, ready to lead the animal through the forest. The guide politely nodded to Glorfindel who also returned the gesture of greeting.

"Safe travels to you." Galion politely called his valediction to Glorfindel. His bright brown-amber eyes seemed less hard now, gentle in his concern for Glorfindel's safe journey home.

Glorfindel smiled to Galion, and his heart uplifted with hearing the enigmatic Galion speak one last time to him.

"Thank you, Galion. My eternal gratitude for the hospitality that you have shown me while I was a guest here. You are a bright leaf, a treasure of the Greenwood that I feel privileged to have met."

At hearing the words that Glorfindel spoke, Galion's eyes softened and he let a smile cross his face. He could certainly understand Thranduil's infatuation with Glorfindel. He was as enchanting as he was handsome, glorious even. He nodded his head respectfully to Glorfindel, and he was a little less angry at the one who had stolen Thranduil's heart.

Just as Glorfindel readied his horse for departure, Thranduil finally came to stand by Galion on the steps of the citadel. His jaded eyes watched Glorfindel turn to follow the guide. He almost choked a little, catching his breath as if he wanted to call out to Glorfindel. Galion knew that Glorfindel had sensed Thranduil's arrival to see him depart, but he only just walked away all the same, as if deciding that their goodbyes be said in silence. Galion wondered if perhaps they had already said their words of parting the night before.

Thranduil kept his silence, watching under veiled eyes as Glorfindel disappeared into the forest city around the citadel. There really was nothing more to say, a fact they had both agreed on the night before. Yet his heart still broke as though all of the words that he wished he could say to Glorfindel were weeping from his heart. But his legs would not give chase, even though a part of his heart headed out of the forest, disappearing with Glorfindel into the dark arms of the trees and the thick of the coppice.

Thranduil continued to stand on the steps, even though Glorfindel had long ago vanished into the arms of the Greenwood. Glorfindel would now simply be another spirit to haunt his mind, and to tug his soul into the weary yearning of an unrequited torment.

When finally Thranduil returned back into the citadel, Oropher stood waiting for him, as if he had been watching and waiting those long passing minutes. Thranduil regarded him with indifference, showing neither discourtesy, anger nor friendliness.

Oropher seemed little to regard Thranduil's mood, choosing instead to delve into the matter that had caused him to seek Thranduil out.

"We will continue our council, for much we need to prepare. I have great need of your assistance now, Thranduil. Do not let Glorfindel distract you form the work we must do now. Do not let your thoughts dwell on the call for alliance. That path is not ours. You would do best to set your mind on only the Greenwood."

Oropher's face was grim and his steady gaze held Thranduil's intrigue. "I am calling forth the tripling of our guard, for I will have a great army at my call should Sauron send his armies hither to us."

Thranduil nodded, pleased with what he heard. He still had not yet given up that somehow the alliance might yet come to pass, moved still by Glorfindel's challenge to him.

"And what is to be my part in your plans?" Thranduil asked curious. "Do I have your leave to join the guard on the outer realm?"

Oropher shook his head. "No, I need you at my side. You are a lord of this forest, and your responsibilities will be as such. You will assist with the creation and overseeing of the armies that we will build more to prepare for Sauron's assualt."

Thranduil nodded, accepting Oropher's words and command. "As is your will, my lord, I will see it done."

"We have much to do." Oropher stated absentmindedly, and not really to Thranduil. He stopped speaking, as if his thoughts traveled onto another topic as he contemplated all that they needed to do. Oropher's deep green eyes seemed contemplative. But then he softly shook his head and spoke to Thranduil once more.

"Do not let your heart fall into doubt, for your dreams are not certain. The people here are strong and we will prevail. The only enemy that can defeat you is the lack of faith that you have with our own might. If you continue to doubt, you will destroy yourself from within. I do not doubt our ability to defeat Sauron's forces, and you should take faith too."

Thranduil took a deep breath, too wrapped within his melancholy to argue his disagreement with that of his father's logic. He watched Oropher walk away with the understanding that he would be called on later in the day for some sort of meeting. At any rate, it was evident from Oropher's eyes that something was on the horizon. But Thranduil did not care to dwell on the cryptic clues his father exhibited. The deep and haunting longing he felt for Glorfindel was like a giant wave that had pulled him under. And he was floating on the surface now of a great and empty void, that was cold to him and as it was endless.

Silently, like one of the shadows in his heart, Thranduil moved through his home towards the forest that he loved dearly. Quickly and without pause, he dashed through the city around the citadel and into the forest. Glorfindel had long since passed through this area, but the trees still whispered of his presence here. Thranduil stopped, as if the weight in his heart had pulled him down. He seated himself down onto the forest floor and leaned his frame against a broad and smooth barked tree.

For how long he sat in numbness, Thranduil did not know. But the countless shadows had shifted, and they had grown long and wider around him. Why was it that the passing of heartache came to him in the solace of isolation? Especially when it was isolation that he feared and had argued against. Thranduil let his eyes drop to his hands, not caring to ponder the question he had poised to himself. At any rate, he wasn't alone now, and he felt the ever familiar and soothing presence of Galion once more.

"I am glad that you have come to me, my friend." Thranduil's rich voice pulled Galion to him, and he smiled his greeting to his friend. "How blessed am I who has a friend that can chase the shadows away. Do you come with a message from Oropher? Am I needed?"

"No." Galion replied, and he seated himself by Thranduil. "I have come of my own accord for the worry of one whom I hold dear."

"Worry not just yet, Galion, because still peace would find us. Numbered are those days, and I fear, they will pass us but in the blink of an eye."

"The dissonance between you and Oropher can be mended, I hope." Galion said, concerned eyes locking into Thranduil's.

Thranduil's warm and caring smile tried to chase away the worry and doubt that Galion had. And Thranduil felt his heart grow warmer, glad that Galion had come to him in this hour. The cold that had filled his soul had lessened, although it lingered ever still. But he felt it less and his mood began to clear.

"I would say have heart, Galion. My loyalty to our King is resolute. I will continue to give him counsel as long as he will take it. He has his own subtle wisdom and he cares for us all. I have no doubt that in the end, he will do what is necessary to preserve our peace."

"And I will do what I can do to give you strength in your council to Oropher."

"Lucky indeed am I, to count you as a friend Galion. Friend you are, and yet, you almost are more than a friend. I feel like you have touched a piece of my soul that few others have….." Thranduil stopped speaking, as his thoughts drifted back to Glorfindel.

Galion sighed, as he could tell that the shift of Thranduil's thoughts had brought him back to thinking of Glorfindel. If only he were more bold and not bound to his sense of duty, he would have long ago professed his attraction to Thranduil. But no, this was not what Thranduil needed. He was not what Thranduil even wanted. Pushing back his heart's desire, Galion rose, intent to move Thranduil's thoughts away from Glorfindel.

"A day has come and gone and you have not yet broken bread. Come with me and and let us eat together. You are still healing, and strength you need. And I would want your company."

Thranduil rose, accepting the offer of his friend to pass the remaining hours of the day in merry company. Glorfindel was gone, and there was nothing he could do to prolong their time together. Their affair was over, and soon the love he felt for Glorfindel would diminish like the stars in the awaking morning sky. There was no use to dwell on someone who had slipped beyond his reach.

He could either lock himself within his mind until his broken heart withered away, or he could throw himself into the protection of his home. He knew that Glorfindel would chose not to weep in silent longing for something that could never be, and he as well should.

But even as he smiled to Galion who had stopped to see if he would come, his heart little could be convinced what his mind was trying to tell him.

\---------------------------

It was with a heavy heart that Glorfindel traveled through the Greenwood. The forest was ever as beautiful and mysterious as he had remembered it to be from his first walk though it. The guide who led him through was silent and offered no interest in conversation, and Glorfindel even wondered if this one spoke Sindarin. And Glorfindel frowned within, wanting anything to distract his forlorn thoughts and aching heart.

Glorfindel's journey out of the forest moved more quickly in comparison to his journey into it. Void in this quick pace through the forest was the companionship of Thranduil that he had cherished throughout his stay. The forest was just as beautiful as it had ever been. But still, it all seemed less. His mood was rather downcast and more so as he saw that the trees grew more sparse and the wide glades of the fields opened up to him. Politely he thanked his guide and whispered to his horse to bear him home with haste. And then he rode off from the forest, caring not even to look back to the forest that had caused him so much joy and grief.

His journey home led him along the same path that he had taken so many weeks before. What was once blooming in early summer was now lush with thick grasses that blew lazily in the summer wind. The warm sun beat down onto him and gentle breezes whispered through the tall grasses. And as the days began and ended while he traveled, the grasslands turned to rocky paths that led him ever closer to the soaring mountains.

The mountain trails transformed the warm summer day with the breath of cool breezes, and Glorfindel breathed with an easy mind and heart, as if for the first time since he had left the Greenwood, the beauty of the lands around him finally penetrated to his perception

When finally he had returned to the valley of Imladris, the weariness of the road lay heavy on him like the mantle of an oppressive and dark night that shrouded the gentle silver lights of the stars. He let his horse be taken for tending, and he hurried without further pause to find Elrond. Knowing the hour of his arrival, he made a guess as to where to find his lord, and he entered into the Hall of Fire. He wasn't surprised to see that Elrond and Erestor were present, but he had not expected for Gil-galad to be standing there as well. Glorfindel understood that the call for alliance had already been sounded, and the different armies were already coming together to begin the plans.

By chance or by word of his arrival it was just the three of them, and Glorfindel greeted them, wondering at what news they had.

"Was my request for alliance answered?" Gil-galad asked, face placid, even though he stared intently for a response.

"Lord Oropher will not march under your command, and will only aid the alliance by defense of the Greenwood. He will not send his archers to aid our alliance, nor will he allow the marching of his people to fight Sauron when the time for battle comes. Oropher and his armies will remain in the Greenwood, and will only fight if Sauron is to send his forces on them."

Glorfindel watched as Gil-galad's face contorted into a frown, and his emotions were bare in his mulling of the news.

"This is ill news indeed." Gil-galad said. "King Elendil has called for the gathering of an alliance, and I assured him that a mighty host of elves will march with him. I made no mention of the actual number or of the full make of our army however. We will still answer his call for alliance, although with a heavy heart, I will lead our armies with numbers less than what I had coveted."

Glorfindel noticed that Elrond's expression seemed to reflect that he had already suspected this news. And Glorfindel wondered if he had been shown in one of his visions the outcome of his debate with Oropher. But the words that Elrond now spoke little reflected his expression however.

"I still have hope in our alliance." Elrond turned to Glorfindel, and his clear eyes smiled to him. "Glorfindel has done what we have requested, and I would like to express my gratitude, for I can sense that your trials were many."

Glorfindel smiled, glad to be back to his home, and he felt the slight stirrings of joy in his soul at the hearing of Elrond's kind and caring words. "I feel that I did not do enough, for I have failed in convincing Oropher. But," He paused and he moved his gaze from Elrond and over to Gil-galad. "Where I failed with Oropher, I succeeded with Thranduil. Thranduil is in favor of alliance and would have followed me here with the might of the Greenwood's archers, if he had but just Oropher's blessing."

"Having Thranduil's approval is of little comfort, for what I know of Thranduil, he would never defy his father's will." Gil-galad said, shaking his head. "Do not trust or look to Thranduil to persuade Lord Oropher to align with us and march to war under my command."

"I beg to differ." Glorfindel responded, drawing curious expressions from both Elrond and Gil-galad at his words. "Thranduil has a strength in him that is equal to Lord Oropher's. He has been granted a warning from the Valar that will move him to persuasion. Despite Oropher's obstinance, Oropher respects and takes council to Thranduil's advice. I will not lose faith that Thranduil will prevail."

"I do not hold that faith, as much as I would like to take solace in your words. Thranduil is too free a spirit to ever care enough to challenge Oropher. No." Gil-galad sighed as if to personify that he had given up on alliance with the Greenwood for good. "We will just commence to precede with the acceptance that the Silvan archers will not be ours in this war. Certainly this weakens our might."

Gil-galad's voice trailed off as if he seemed lost in his thoughts. He then looked curiously at Elrond who looked like he was still contemplating Glorfindel's words. "Do you wish to add your thoughts, Elrond?"

Brought from his thoughts, Elrond sighed. "You doubt the Greenwood would ever answer to alliance, and even if your thoughts do come to pass, hope is not yet abandoned us. I have to hold you to adopt this mindset now. The time has moved from the ifs of war, to the time of war. But even in these uncertain times, I still have hope. Something deep within my heart would have me believe that Glorfindel's words are true. Yes Thranduil is like the changing of the winds, but something tells me that Glorfindel did indeed succeed in this mission."

"How is this so when Lord Oropher has rejected our call? Unless I am mistaken, it is the Lord Oropher, and not Thranduil who rules the Greenwood. He may have the admiration of the people, but from what I know, it is Oropher they follow and not Thranduil."

"I agree. Thranduil would never lead his people in open rebellion against his father. The wood- elves will remain isolated, and subject alone to their own fates." Erestor added, ever quick to the reason of doubt instead of delusions of the miraculous.

"That is still not certain." Elrond said, brows creased with the depths of his concern. "The future of the Greenwood is still not known to me, and all that is shown to me is but a foggy picture of an unknown future. I do agree with Glorfindel however. And while we should precede now to plan with the resources that we do know that we have, let us also keep that uncertain possibility in the back of our minds that Greenwood may still answer our call. Until the hour of war is on us, anything is possible."

Gil-galad's strong and caring eyes drifted to Elrond and within their depths, his eyes smiled at him. "Ever would I hold your council close to me Elrond, for your reason is the advice that can always steer me so correctly."

Gil-galad turned to Glorfindel. "You have traveled far, my friend, and now is not the time for us to further debate. Take your leave now and rest your mind and body. The days of strife are just on the horizon, and they will greet us soon enough."

Glorfindel took his leave, moving silently through the halls of his home, and even though he was far from Thranduil, he couldn't help but wonder what the other was up to. He carried a pensive look on his face, and he breathed deeper, as if to personify his troubled mind. Silently, he entered the corridor that would lead him to his chambers, but he passed by his door, even though he was weary. But the weight of his thoughts were stronger however, motivating him to seek out the gardens. He stepped outside into the lush summer gardens, and he seated himself on a bench, as if he hoped the tranquil setting would ease his heart.

After some passing of time, a presence made itself known to him, and Glorfindel saw that Erestor approach. Erestor's deep grey eyes looked troubled and he realized the very astute counsellor must have picked up on some subtle clue. Glorfindel smiled a little, surprised that the elusive Erestor cared enough to seek him out.

"I hope my presence does not disturb you." Erestor stated, seating himself without invitation by Glorfindel. He was fueled by his curiosity regarding Glorfindel's earlier words and the emotions that drove what he said.

"Not at all, counsellor."

Content that Glorfindel was receptive to his questions, Erestor continued. "My mind will just not rest until I know what makes you believe that Oropher and the Greenwood will join us in alliance. What moves you to put such faith in Thranduil?" Erestor asked, noticing the discord on Glorfindel's face and the slight glimmer in his eyes when he spoke the name of Thranduil. It was evident that something had indeed occurred, and Erestor was not sure why this bothered him so. But it did, like a tiny singe of jealousy. He quickly dispelled the feeling, and soon the fleeting emotion was gone.

Glorfindel raised a curious eyebrow, wondering why Erestor cared. But, he was the chief of Elrond's counsellors, and thoroughly understudying an issue or occurrence was his business.

"I just have faith that Thranduil can reach through to Oropher."

Erestor shook his head, far from convinced. "Oropher is a complex character, and Thranduil would never challenge him."

At hearing his words on Oropher, Glorfindel burst out into laughter. "Your statement is true, and yet does not even come close to scratching the surface of what Oropher is."

"Well, tell me this, what causes you to put such faith in Thranduil? At one point, I would too have believed him to aid us. I remember a Thranduil who was friendly and caring, but also much like an enigma and distant sometimes. He could make me laugh one second, only to irritate me the next. When he passed into the wilds with Oropher, did he not also show his bias and dislike for the Noldor? When he followed his father, I came to conclude that deep within, Thranduil must harbor the same feelings as Oropher."

Glorfindel smiled, suddenly remembering the conversation that he had had with Thranduil about Erestor. He cared no further to discuss his reasoning with his trust of Thranduil, but instead was interested in finally learning who had won that chess game. "Thranduil told me me that he once played a chess game with you, but he could not tell me who was the victor. He indicated that I should ask you."

On hearing what Glorfindel had to say, Erestor smiled, much to Glorfindel's surprise. Erestor rarely smiled, but before his mind could linger on that unusual behavior, Erestor responded.

"I remember that night like it was just yesterday." His deep grey eyes grew unreadable, but the smile remained on his face. "I can say with honesty that we never finished that game. There was no winner that night." Erestor's face grew more serious now, and he shook his head, as if annoyed that Glorfindel knew. He cursed Thranduil within his mind, and once again, he could feel his anger boil over because of Thranduil.

"Well, you fared better than I did, for he beat me." And Glorfindel suddenly stopped speaking, as if he realized just what he had truly revealed to Erestor.

Erestor smiled more now at Glorfindel's revelation, and he rose, ready to leave. "Gil-galad is correct. The weariness of your travels is imprinted on your face and eyes, and you carry the distance of the road on your clothes. Go now, and refresh. Gil-galad will soon hold the pre-war councils while we await for King Elendil's arrival."

Glorfindel watched Erestor depart, wondering just what game Thranduil and Erestor had really played back in Lindon so many years ago. Clearing his mind from that thought, he rose, and headed back to his rooms for much needed solitude. He knew that Erestor and Gil-galad were right. He needed his rest now. Soon the hard and important work would find him, and he would be asked to provide his input on the war councils.

The dice had been cast. The alliance had been called for. Soon they would debate the plan to free Middle-Earth from the threat of Sauron's shadow for good. Glorfindel felt a bolt like lightning strike through his core, pushing the longing he had for Thranduil deep within the crevices of his heart.


	14. Willingly Forgotten

The dark of the moonless night shrouded the cloaked and hooded figure in its shadow. Even though he was veiled under the dark of night, he knew his presence had been sensed. This area, just outside the valley of Imladris would be heavily guarded. Even without seeing the numerous guards, he knew that they were close to surrounding him. He dismounted his horse to show them that he was no threat or harm. Security was on high alert he knew, for the kings and commanders of the alliance were all camped in this peaceful valley, planning their final battle plans.

"Who goes there?" An Imladris sentry stood before him, while the others flanked around him, encircling him as he had done but just a few years ago to that other who had captured his heart, and who still caused a yearning to burn within his soul.

"I come from the Greenwood as a messenger from King Oropher." Thranduil kept his voice calm and ever charming, seducing with his rich tones. " I wish to see Lord Elrond, for I have business for the High-King concerning King Oropher and the Greenwood." Thranduil lowered his hood to reveal his face to the guards. He watched as their eyes widened when they recognized him to be from the Greenwood and of elf-kind.

"Yes, we will take you to him at once."

Thranduil let a guard take his horse before he followed the leader of the guards down a path that would lead to the Last Homely House. Although the dark of night obscured most of the details, Thranduil still could tell that this was a fair place, and he was looking forward to seeing the valley once the day had broken. Now in the peaceful valley and surrounded by a great and mighty watch, he let himself relax, and he felt the safeness of his surroundings ease all of his worries.

His travels through the lands had been rushed and in silent urgency. The perils were many and the stakes were high. The agents of Sauron would look to stop any communications and he knew to travel carefully. He passed by the easy roads and took instead the paths of cover, even though it slowed him considerably. No longer did he care to be rash, but he moved on the side of caution. Under brush and under heavy cloak he passed the nights without a fire, stopping only to let his horse pause for needed breaks. It had all been exhausting, but Elrond's fair home was soothing with its serenity, erasing the trials he had experienced while on the road.

Passing through the heavily guarded courtyard, he entered into a vast hallway that was lit under the soft glow of lanterns. Thranduil did his best to gauge the details of his surroundings, but the shadows were strong and the light was diminished. The guard showed Thranduil the door he needed to take to find Elrond, and Thranduil politely nodded his departure. He entered into Elrond's study, inclining his head respectfully to the Lord of Imladris. Elrond in turn, with his surprise, blinked his eyes and spoke a wordless sound before he finally could utter his visitor's name.

"Yes, Elrond, it is I. I had been told of the valley here and had to see Imladris myself. Your Lord Glorfindel really spoke with such regard, and I could not dispel it from my mind. I only lament that I did not time my arrival better, for the moonless night casts such dark shadows in the valley, and I am afraid that I have missed the subtle nuances of your home."

Elrond listened to Thranduil's words, wondering what had brought him across the lands to Imladris. Thranduil had never journeyed here before, and now that the time for war was on them, Elrond wondered at the meaning of his arrival. He continued to stare at Thranduil without any words, as if he expected the other to speak. But Thranduil did not. Finally gathering his wits about him in his wonderment and impatience, he spoke to his unexpected visitor.

"Thranduil, welcome to Imladris, my humble home. Do forgive me for my interlude of silence, for I was not expecting you. But please know, I am most happy to have you visit me here." He looked Thranduil over again, wondering if something was amiss or had happened to the Greenwood. But Thranduil was ever an enigma and Elrond could not tell if he came due to tragedy, on business, or simply for his own amusement.

As if Thranduil could read Elrond's thoughts that pondered on why he he had came here, he plopped himself on a chair, tossing his cloak aside and said. "I am here because I bring a message from my father for Gil-galad and the other leaders of the alliance. I came to see you first, for I am in need of a meeting with them. I would imagine you are the one who can arrange such a meeting if Gil-galad is not within the boundaries of your home. The message will be of great interest to everyone, and I would beseech we speak as soon as possible, and without delay."

"I see, and may I have the message please so I may read it?" Elrond wanted to know what exactly it was that had caused Oropher to send his only son on such a mission to bear a message on his behalf. Did the Greenwood no longer have fleet footed messengers who cared to travel the lands?

"Have the message? My dear Elrond, I AM the message." Thranduil laughed a little. "And before I can tell you what my father states, know that I am thirsty. Have you any decent drink here in Imladris that can quench the thirst of a weary traveler?"

Thranduil gave him a pouting look, which caused Elrond to smile and to call on Erestor who was working in the room next to his. Erestor entered Elrond's study and regarded Thranduil with awe and shock, while he listened to Elrond's request to go fetch some refreshments for their guest. Erestor was quick to depart the room to see to the task, although his deep grey eyes seemed little to believe what they saw. Once that task was completed, Elrond turned his attention back to Thranduil.

"And how is the Greenwood?" Elrond asked, not really having heard anything from that realm since Glorfindel had returned from the distant forest. Oropher had been strangely silent, refusing to respond to any of their correspondence. No messengers entered the realm, and no messages came out. Elrond had figured that Glorfindel's visit had angered the Woodland realm immensely, and communications had been severed forever.

"Ah, Elrond, nothing will I say about the Greenwood until my thirst is quenched. My travel was long, and will you really make me beseech the courtesy of your home?"

"My chief-advisor will have some wine brought shortly." Elrond explained, knowing that Thranduil had heard the request.

"Erestor!" Thranduil giggled a little. "To think that he is now your chief-advisor. I still remember him from my days in Lindon. He was so quiet, and so shy, and sometimes was so easy to tease into anger. And he seemed to always follow you around like he was but your shadow. Still, I think he is a good choice for your chief-advisor. I remember him to be cunning and wise beyond his years."

Thranduil's face clouded a little while he thought of Erestor, remembering the reports that he had heard. "I am glad he survived the fall of Eregion. I was most disheartened when I heard of what had happened to his family. At least his soul was sparred, to which I wonder was wrought by your will when fade was all that he wanted."

Elrond's expression mirrored Thranduil's own sad face.

"You know I could not let him go." He also took a seat, seating himself next to Thranduil.

Thranduil regarded Elrond, and his eyes shifted with the gleam of his remembrance of sad tidings, to that of the wonderment of the unknown future. "You were always so found of him, and your friendship, as I recall was so deep and true. Perhaps there is something more to it, or has someone else enchanted your heart?"

Elrond smiled before he responded back to Thranduil, as he was not at all surprised that his astuteness had somehow uncovered something more indeed.

"Erestor has healed but his heart is locked away. He would not look to me for what I want, so I have indeed looked to someone else."

Thranduil watched as Elrond moved his hand absentmindedly to his chest, as if he gripped at something that was hidden under his robes. His hand lingered there for a moment, and his deep eyes closed, as if he was lost within the good of memories. When Elrond's eyes opened again, he spoke once more.

"I hope to someday wed the Lady Celebrian. But with the given threat of the Dark Lord, now is just not the time."

"Lady Celebrian." Thranduil whispered to himself. "She is a noble lady, and will be a fine match for you. Celeborn is still very dear to me, and I would wish for the happiness of his family. I know that you will bring this to them."

Elrond smiled, and he saw that Erestor reentered the room, carrying a bottle of wine along with some water. Beside him, another carried some glasses and snacks, and they placed their contents on Elrond's desk.

"Please join us." Thranduil bade Erestor before he could turn to leave. "The years have been many since I have seen you last, and I am not yet ready to retire for the night. I would like your company before I rest, Erestor."

Erestor smiled, knowing it would be rude for him to decline Thranduil's offer, so he seated himself beside them. While they talked, Elrond sent word to Gil-galad for the meeting. They would meet in the morning, and Thranduil could then speak his message at that time.

After the refreshments had been drank and eaten, Thranduil rose, smiling at Elrond. Understanding the weariness that Thranduil had, Elrond as well rose. He walked with Thranduil through the halls and he showed him a room. It was a small room, no bigger in size as to hold one bed and a night stand, for Imladris now was the headquarters for the western troops of the alliance, and space was almost exhausted. The room was just perfect to Thranduil, as he was weary and grateful for any place to rest his head. They bid each other goodnight, and Thranduil watched as Elrond walked away.

After refreshing, the weariness that should have pulled Thranduil into slumber just would not find him. The hour was not so late, but the moonless night painted the night as being later than what it really was. Thranduil felt restless, and his thoughts could only drift now to Glorfindel. He was here somewhere within these halls, and Thranduil yearned very much to see him. Even though the years had passed and their love was no longer a flame between them, still he found himself pinning and longing for Glorfindel's touch. How vibrant were his sapphire eyes that still flashed within his mind? Time could never erase the love he had for Glorfindel. With the longing in his heart, Thranduil roamed the halls, wondering where Glorfindel's room was.

Thranduil was not sure how long he searched, and he little noticed the other inhabitants and visitors that he passed. The peaceful halls that Glorfindel had described to him years ago within the Greenwood, were anything but. Despite the hour of the night, he passed by many, and he listened as an interloper to their tidings and gossip. A collective buzz seemed to pulse through the valley, and Thranduil could feel his own heart beat with the anticipation of the coming days of  
war.

His walk led him through a hall now that was less crowded and had the lantern lights turned down low. Thranduil began walking down it, but was soon to pause. He turned around to see Glorfindel standing behind him. Beneath the soft light of the lanterns, Glorfindel seemed grave, his face full of wonder, but it was also cast in the shadow of disbelief. He moved quickly to Thranduil, as if debating who stood before him was real or was nothing but a dream.

"Thranduil?" Glorfindel called out to him, and as he finally deduced that Thranduil was real, he let a smile cross his face. "Just when I would have been content to retire for the night, it is you who comes to me now. What pulls you from your home and hither to our valley?"

Thranduil didn't respond to the question, but instead returned the smile. "Is there somewhere we can go where I can answer your questions, my friend?"

Glorfindel nodded, and motioned for Thranduil to follow. While he led Thranduil, his heart suddenly beat with the excitement of this unexpected reunion. As the years had passed, Glorfindel had let his heart fall to the full engrossment of other fancies, and his desires no longer raced with the yearning of Thranduil's affection. Instead of fantasying with desire over Thranduil, he was preoccupied now with the planning of war. In the years that had followed since his departure from the Greenwood, his prediction had come true. Thranduil, who had once burned as bright as Anor within his heart and memories, had faded to the soft impression of Ithil's rays that were wrapped within the dark night sky. He was diminished but still there, and now that he was before him again, a curious reaction occurred. Glorfindel's heart beat quicker, and and his mind raced.

Where he had once believed that the years had stifled his desires for Thranduil, now he was not so sure. Was it not true that the resettles nights in which he would aimlessly stroll the paths of Imladris in unsatisfying thoughts on Thranduil, a distant memory that was no more? The longing, the yearning, the fond memories of his desire had simply ceased to be. He had thought this, or at least, he had allowed the illusion of this truth to trick him. Glorfindel knew it had all been a lie.  
Seeing Thranduil before him now returned within him the whirlwind of emotions that had once burned so brightly to him before. Despite his restraint, his heart beat faster, even as his breathing paused.

Glorfindel regarded Thranduil, who looked as inciting as the image that he had seen that night of the feast, years ago. Glorfindel had locked that image within in his mind. Even though the road was far between Imladris and the Greenwood was far, the tolls of travel seemed little to paint their impressions on Thranduil's face. As weary as he must have been, Thranduil smiled gently to him, eyes as warm and dear as ever, although Glorfindel could read that he had very much changed.  
Something was very different about Thranduil, but Glorfindel could not discern why or what it was.

They entered into Glorfindel's room, and Thranduil cared not to comment on the surroundings. He seated himself on the lush divan beside Glorfindel, eager to converse now with his friend.

"Will you answer now what I had asked you, my friend?"

"Ah, my dearest Glorfindel. How long have the nights been through these years that have seen us sundered despite what I would have wanted." His voice was thick with the emotions that had once driven him to the sweet seduction of Glorfindel.

"I have missed you too, Thranduil." Glorfindel honestly answered. "Even though my days and nights have been busy in passing, it was often that I thought of you and my time in the Greenwood. And again, I would ask, what brings you to us?"

"Much has changed in my fair forest home. The armies of Sauron are beyond the mind's imagination, or so our scouts would say."

"You bring news to us? Has the Greenwood been attacked?" Glorfindel interrupted Thranduil.

"No, not yet. We still remain safe in the arms of the forest, but my father worries and has built up his forces in response. No, I come to you now for another reason." And Thranduil felt himself get swept within the deep blue eyes of Glorfindel. Still Glorfindel would cause his heart to beat with the excitement of his want, and tinge his heart with the melancholy of his yearning.

"Ever would you move me to journey to your side." Thranduil sighed as a lament. He didn't mean for Glorfindel to hear his words, but he said them all the same, unable to stop the regret that poured within his heart.

"There was hardly a day that my heart did not lament for you. And oh how I would have came running to you, if but you had just called for me just one last time. But that call never came. Even though my mind understood one truth, my heart would not accept it. And here I am, and here I am speaking words that I should not , and still I am yearning for one whom I should not yearn for."

Thranduil's eyes gleamed as if tears of frustration and of his forlorn love threatened to fall. And with the words that Thranduil spoke, Glorfindel could do no other but to reach for Thranduil, even though his mind told him to stop. Thranduil was not the same, and he had finally accepted that his love for Thranduil was over and could never be.

At first Thranduil accepted his embrace, taking comfort in it, as he melted in the lost and forbidden strong arms of Glorfindel. But Thranduil was then soon to break away from the embrace, and he smiled bittersweetly at the one who years ago had taken a piece of his heart. Where once he would have moved mountains to be with Glorfindel, now he could no longer touch him, even though he was right before him. The undeniable love that he had for Glorfindel would never leave him. But he was no longer free to give his heart to Glorfindel. Perhaps he never had been free, and the truth of the matter was that his heart had never been his to give. Had Glorfindel not said to him that their love was never meant to be? Thranduil understood that everything burned much brighter for them, and forbidden love was the strongest of yearnings, and was the cruelest of pains that he had ever felt.

Thranduil looked into Glorfindel's blue eyes, which were regarding him in question. Thranduil knew that Glorfindel could sense a change about him. It was time to tell Glorfindel just why he moved away from him even though his soul still cried out for him. But words just would not come to him, so lost was Thranduil within those deep blue eyes.

"Ah, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel smiled, but his eyes were sad, as he was not so sure that they should reignite their love. As if Thranduil sensed where Glorfindel's thoughts had moved, he spoke.

"I am married now, Glorfindel." Thranduil stated as if his words were nothing more than announcing that the sun rises in the east.

"You are married?" Glorfindel couldn't believe the words his friend had stated to him. "When? To Whom? Why?" Glorfindel wasn't sure why he asked why to Thranduil, as they both knew that they could never really be together.

"Ah Glorfindel, some people have romances and a courtship that are worthy of the troubadours singing their love about, while others best tragedy or trials and quests to claim their loves. And then there are stories, like mine, where the feelings are right and the push you need is finally given. I married a Lady who was a dear friend of mine from my days in Doriath. She was a Lady I had once professed my love for. But the years of our circumstances got in the way and I thought our paths would never cross again. But fate, or intervention, would see otherwise, and now I am hers, and she is mine."

"And yet you said you came because you thought of me and was moved?" Glorfindel knew he would never be able to understand Thranduil.

"Yes, I thought of you and I was moved to make this journey. And." Thranduil smiled, and leaned closer towards Glorfindel. "Oropher has finally decided to answer Gil-galad's call for alliance. Lorian as well will join in with alliance. Someone had to deliver the news to Gil-galad, and Oropher asked me to bear this message."

Glorfindel's eyes went wide on hearing yet another revelation that was both shocking but most welcome. His heart now beat with the excitement of their alliance, instead of with the yearning he still harbored for Thranduil. Glorfindel didn't know if he was more surprised that Thranduil was now married, or that Oropher was willing to work with the Noldor.

"But I thought my mission had failed. I left the Greenwood without an agreement of alliance, and now all these years later, King Oropher agrees to align?"

"How many times did I tell you, Glorfindel, that the Greenwood moves ever on its own accord." Thranduil smiled to him, and he listened to Glorfindel's laughter.

"Yes, I remember your words, and I understand why I put my faith in you. Somehow I knew that you would convince Oropher to join us. But tell me, what caused Oropher to change his mind?"

Before Thranduil could answer, he thought back to the long years that had passed since Glorfindel had called on the Greenwood for alliance. He had never relented on trying to sway Oropher, but his words were brushed off and little resonated with Oropher. It hadn't been him who had finally convinced Oropher to join in the fight to destroy Sauron. Instead, it had been someone else:

It had started like any normal day, although there was nothing usual about it. Frantic voices had filled the halls, sounding the joyful news. Thranduil's first child had been born, and the Greenwood celebrated the occasion. Even as the world grew ever grimmer, joy was still to be had. They had celebrated deep into the night and Thranduil had stepped outside, alone in silent reflection.

But this was not to be, and he sensed his father approach. They had spoken of the birth and to Thranduil, Oropher had never seemed happier. So kindled in his eyes was a certain tenderness and joy. And Thranduil reflected just how changed Oropher seemed this night. It was as if the years of turmoil and heartache had never occurred.

"Today I have felt in my heart a rapture that I had almost come to believe was beyond me. I do not tell you much Thranduil, but you are my pride and you have always had my love. How lucky are fools to have at their side a subtle wisdom and guidance. And in these last years I have witnessed just how capable you are."

Oropher paused, smiling tenderly and sincerely at Thranduil. "You have to understand one thing about fools, Thranduil, we are always distrustful of reason and good advice. Verily I say now that I should have taken your advice when Glorfindel came knocking at our door. We will join Gil-galad's alliance, and I will lead my army to fight at our enemies door alongside them. I do not truly yield my authority to Gil-galad, but I will answer his call to align."

Oropher's tone was grave, but his face was gentle still. His eyes smiled, as if his thoughts drifted to something precious to him. "The need to preserve the innocence here would move me now to offer even my own life. Because it is true, if the alliance fails, Sauron will cover even the Greenwood in his shadow. I dare not wait for him to try to make claim on what I hold dear. We will destroy him, alongside with the Noldor, and we will prevail."

Thranduil's heart had stopped but now was pounding, and he bowed his head respectfully, accepting his king's words with gladness.

"Thranduil, please forgive me for what I ask of you now, but I know that you will understand the necessity of my request. I have prepared a request for Lorian to join us. Journey there and seek their agreement to join us. If they agree, send word back to me and then hurry on to Gil-galad. Let him know that the Greenwood marches to preserve peace. March back with them, and meet me on the plains of war."

And as much as Thranduil had wished to protest and remain with his family, he knew the importance of their joining the alliance. He could not put his own selfish wants before the protection of their realm. With sadness, he bid his family goodbye and set out as quickly as he could for Lorien.

In Lorien, the agreement to march with Oropher was quickly agreed on, and Thranduil had word sent back to Oropher that Lorien would march with them and meet them at the time and place that Oropher had requested.

Without delay, Thranduil had set out for Imladris, eager to offer the Greenwood's aid.

Coming out of his thoughts, Thranduil turned his eyes back to Glorfindel and away from his thoughts.

"As I mentioned." Thranduil finally answered. "Much has changed in the Greenwood. Oropher has decided that the protection of his people will only be maintained if Sauron is destroyed. This fight is ours, and we come now to offer our pledge of alliance."

"There is precious life to preserve." Glorfindel understood the implications from Thranduil. "Even though the hour is late, we are glad to have our woodland brothers join us."

Thranduil stood, finally feeling the weariness of his hasty travels hit him with all the weight of the miles. "I will see you tomorrow, Glorfindel. Much do we have to discuss, and much do I have to hear and learn. I would take what rest I can find now, and I excuse myself from your company."

"My heart is glad to see you again, Thranduil. My peaceful dreams find you."

And Glorfindel watched as Thranduil left his side. His heart was pained with the news that Thranduil had told him, but the rationale within his mind reminded him that a love between him and Thranduil just could not be. Thranduil had never been his, nor could he ever be his to have..

\----------------

The faint light of the stars could scarcely light the dark canvas of the night sky. And there was no one around. The land was dark, yet every detail of the silent dread could be seen. He walked through it, strangely, numbly, void of thought or emotion, as if what was around him was nothing more than an illusion.

Slowly the solid ground gave way to a watery path, but he continued on until his waist was submerged in a flowing river. He looked around him, seeing gentle waves roll pass him. The river flowed by him, and what once was water that had flowed as crimson, was now a fast and raging current of black. The waters rose higher and higher, until he was submerged beneath the flood. He was covered, sinking, drowning.

Was this what it felt like to die, to feel engulfed with the shadows of a deep abyss into which he sank? There was no light, no warmth, no world beyond where souls could heal. All that was around him was an endless black void of nothingness……

He awoke with the lingering affects of the dream still washing over him. That same star light seemed to sinisterly filter in through the window. The room seemed bathed in a wash of crimson and the wind was silent, the stars were almost absent. And Thranduil felt neither fear or sadness, but instead just the stillness of the pause of wake. He blinked, his eyes caring not for further rest dispute the long weeks of travel. Thranduil felt restless and only wondered about his dream. Was this dream a new warning or was it nothing more than his own anxieties and fears now that war was on them? He rose, and only wondered briefly if he should try to drift back to sleep.

Even with the lateness of his arrival, and the long night hours he had spent conversing with Glorfindel, Thranduil felt no weariness. Instead of trying to fall back into slumber where dreadful dreams would find him, he decided to rise and greet the day. He had spent the early morning walking the delightful gardens of this valley. It was evident that he had been called to the gardens, since he now felt peace, and the lingering unrest from his dreams were absent from his mind and soul. In silent reflection, he watched the splendor of the morning unfold before him with its glorious manifestations over the valley.

And as the unfolding sunrise opened up before him in sweeping swatches of oranges, yellows, and pinks, Thranduil could feel the presence of another. He moved his eyes from the glorious sunrise to that of deep grey and ancient eyes which regarded him this early morning. Thranduil recognized the other who gazed at him so intently. He had seen him in Gil-galad's court, long ago when he had dwelt in Lindon.

The ancient before him was a high-elf, who had journeyed from Aman, but that was all that Thranduil knew about him. He was always in the fringes of the court, whispering his advice in the shadows. But Thranduil knew that he was as wise as he was mysterious. He wondered what the other wanted, and Thranduil mused on why he watched him.

"Lord Thranduil, I sincerely hope that I am not disturbing your reflection this early morning." The other seated himself by him.

Thranduil did not respond and regarded him under veiled eyes, wondering if he would introduce himself, for he could not remember his name.

"Ah, but perhaps you do not remember me." The other spoke so softly, voice no louder than a faint breeze. He let his eyes move to the vibrant sky, which he seemed to worship, almost as if he had forgotten about Thranduil.

Thranduil waited for an introduction of self, for although he had seen this one before, he knew neither his name nor what he did within the service of the High-King.

"What do you see, Thranduil, that leads you to loathe your dreams?" That ancient voice asked him now, as he was once again interested in Thranduil.

Thranduil was a little annoyed that the other could read him so easily. "And to whom would I be giving my response. You are so quick to move beyond the pleasantries of a simple introduction to that of the conversation regarding your cryptic question."

"You are correct, and you have my apologies." The other chuckled. "I did just say that you must not remember me. I am Curumil, the High-King's lore master." Curumil finally got around to introducing himself.

"Master Curumil." Thranduil had heard this name many times before, but did not realize that this was him. "What has drawn you to seek answers from me? Does somehow the distant inhabitants of a land you know not catch your fancy this morning?"

"It is often a strange set of events that can bring about a circumstance in which paths finally do cross. You would know this to be true. Just before the sun was set to rise I felt an urge to stroll through the gardens. This should have struck me as peculiar, for this is something that I never do. And then I went on this unusual walk and what do I see before my very eyes, but none other than the son of Oropher who had seemingly vanished from our memory here in the West, into the very folds of the Greenwood."

"You are not one to believe in arbitrary meetings, I gather." Thranduil still felt no desire to open up to the ancient Curumil, despite the infinite wisdom he possessed.

"I believe there is always a balance of chance with that of fate. However, I am also very certain that the worry in your eyes tie in everything together. Worry is such an exhausting endeavor, that leaves the soul weary. I offer my assistance to ease this heavy weight that bears down on you now. Would not some conversation ease what you try to lock within your mind?"

Curumil's words deeply moved Thranduil, and he was able to discern the sincerity of them. It could little hurt to open up to him and speak of what haunted him in his dreams.

"I have dreamt of a nightmare year after year." And Thranduil opened up about the dreams that had haunted him through the years.

"Ah, dreams. Now I do understand just why our paths would cross. You seek answers to your dream, but, the choices you have long pondered have already been made. Do you still seek to hear my interpretations, or do you let what you fear to remain buried in your mind?"

Thranduil smiled as he understood that Curumil as well saw death in his dreams. Thranduil already knew this. He needed not to be reminded of what awaited him in this war. He let his eyes drop to the garden ground, and he watched some leaves blow beneath and around his shoes.

"I can read that you have already interpreted the dreams perhaps with your own lore-masters in Greenwood. And yet you march to war?"

"Yes, willingly I do. Under the command of Oropher, do I gladly go." Thranduil answered, voice steadfast and resolute.

"Lord Oropher is set on his path and all that I will reveal from your dream is that your fates are not the same." Curumil sighed, and a dread pierced to his soul as he realized just how much blood would be shed in this war. Their lives would never be the same. But even as he felt the piercing of the cold of dread shoot through to his heart, he smiled. "The tides of war will shift the sands of order. For when back do souls return when the hard fought peace is won, I fear much will be changed."

Thranduil's eyes went wide, and his mind seemed to turn another possibility about his dream. No. He thought. His original interpretation was correct. Curumil must have foresight, but surely what he saw involved the Noldor. And he wondered about Gil-galad and Elrond. And then his thoughts moved to Glorfindel. Thranduil could feel his heart skip a beat. He was still in love with Glorfindel. Distance and time had little dimmed the flame that burned within for him, even though he was no longer one that his heart should dwell on. Thranduil moved his gaze to the balcony just outside Glorfindel's bedchamber. But Glorfindel was not on it. He turned his gaze away and back to Curumil, afraid he would give away the secrets of his heart.

"I do not fear what war may bring me. The fear of not acting is far more worrisome."

"I would advise you to dwell not on your dreams. Dreams are not always concrete, and do not always influence our lives. Death will come hard and swift to many, but that is the nature of war." Curumil sighed, before he continued.

"Much will be gained in this war, and much will be lost. And the beating of hearts will grow cold while others will flame with a fire anew. And you, Thranduil, are already fighting. Remember that every choice you make closes the door on other paths forever. Turn away from where your thoughts and heart may pull you. For to focus on the wrong emotions will end for you in disaster."

Thranduil didn't respond, but he smiled, understanding the stark advice although he didn't realize that he had revealed his heart's longing. He hadn't even realized that he had given Curumil any clues regarding Glorfindel. But perhaps his eyes had given him away as he had sat starring at Glorfindel's balcony, as if he was trying to will the other to come out to him.

Thranduil sighed within, and listened as Curumil gave his words of parting. Thranduil continued to linger in the garden, awaiting the hour when their meeting would commence. But that hour was still not yet on him.

\-----

In this early morning, Glorfindel had woken. He had only drifted off in intermittent moments of light slumber since the sweet reprieve of sleep and dreams remained just beyond his reach. His spinning mind looped, and he was not sure just why. Was he actually upset that someone he had walked away from and that he had told to think of him as just a memory, had actually moved on? Glorfindel was not sure why he dwelled on Thranduil still. He did not need to bind himself to anyone.  
Certainly not to someone like Thranduil, who was now bound to the soul of another.

But still the early morning splendor did not chase away his uncertainty. If anything he only frowned more while he watched the sky awaken in oranges, pinks, and yellows. Glorfindel was quick to dress and the thought of walking to clear his mind appealed to him now. It was not fair to Thranduil whom he would soon meet to be confronted with any of his irritations due to his mood.

Some of the things that Glorfindel loved most about Imaldris were the gardens and the mighty waterfalls. Both appealed to him this day, but he decided to go to clear his mind now in one of his favorite gardens. As he paused on the steps that would lead him to the garden, he saw Thranduil sitting there alone. Glorfindel had lingered on the steps watching like a voyeur. The early morning sun highlighted his hair in a sheen of silver vibrancy, and the peace of the valley seemed etched on his face. He felt his heart pause and he stifled the yearning in his heart. Even though Thranduil could not be his, still his heart beat with yearning for him. Shaking his head and freeing his heart desires, Glorfindel made his presence known to Thranduil.

"So this is where you have gone to pass the early morning hours. How was your night, Thranduil?"

Thranduil smiled, losing himself within the rich tones of Glorfindel's voice, and that voice brought back such fond memories and feelings. He breathed deep, trying to suppress them. But Glorfindel's voice drew his focus on him, and he looked into the deep blue eyes. Even as time had passed and he had turned to a new love, still Glorfindel very much pulled at his heart. He hadn't realized just how strong his feelings had been, lingering ever as the years had passed.

"The long hours of my night were marred by the dreams that come on the eve of war. Dark have my dreams turned, despite the joy that has found me."

"Dark are most of our dreams, for that is the nature of the waiting of war. And soon, with much heartache, will our dreams turn to the living reality of nightmares. The embrace of death may very well come to be known by us all. And I have felt that embrace once, and I can tell you that I fear it not. Gladly would I sacrifice myself to keep others safe."

"Ever do you bring me such comfort as I would remember from you." Thranduil smiled. "I can only hope to fight along side you in this war. I have trained harder to be not just a healer, but instead as a soldier, although this is all so new to me."

Glorfindel smiled, although he thought of the bitter memories of Thranduil's once brush with death. "I do believe you have, Thranduil."

But Glorfindel could speak no further because a bell now tolled that signified to them that the time for their meeting was now on them. Thranduil was led by Glorfindel to the council room that they used to discuss the war preparations. King Elendil would not be present, he learned, because he had gone to attempt to recruit some holdouts, but was expected to return any day now. Thranduil was introduced to a big man with fierce and fiery eyes, King Elendil's youngest son, Isildur, who was taking the king's place in this meeting. Gil-galad arrived not soon after their introduction to Isildur, along with Elrond. They all exchanged pleasant greetings.

"I could scarcely believe the news I received when I learned of your arrival, Thranduil. Please, delay no further the news from your lord." Gil-galad stated, seating himself down on a chair while the others joined him by sitting.

"Oropher has agreed to join in with your alliance and has secured the forces of Lorien to join as well. They will await your arrival in the east and will march to fight in this war with you."

"This is excellent news." cried Isildur, who clapped his hands once with his outburst. "My father had given up on King Oropher, but he will be glad to know that we can now add the bows of the Greenwood and Lorien to our might."

Gil-galad smiled cynically at Isildur, somewhat annoyed at the useless comment he uttered. But he commented on it not. Instead he turned his attention to Thranduil, and said.

"You do bring good news indeed, Thranduil, but yet I feel that you have not disclosed all that there is to be known. What conditions is on this agreement that Oropher has contrived?"

Thranduil sighed within, displeased that he now had to disclose just how stubborn Oropher still was.

"He marches as an independent army, free of your command. And so do the armies of Lorien."

Gil-galad frowned, but he withheld the ire of his displeasure. Such a fool, he thought of Oropher, and he saw just how troubled and despondent Thranduil was regarding his father's decision. Even though Gil-galad was angry at the news, this was not the time nor the person to unleash his venom on. There would be another point in time to debate the folly of Oropher's decision, but only when he was finally face to face with Oropher.

"So he answers the call, but ever on his own terms." Glorfindel commented in exasperation, somewhat dismayed even after all those years that had passed in which he had failed with convincing Oropher to align.

"Might I ask, Thranduil?" Elrond joined in the conversation now. "What has caused this change to Oropher's mind? The hour grows late, and we are on the dawn of war. Does he even have the proper time and resources to join us?"

"We have been preparing and training our forces not soon after Lord Glorfindel departed. Regretfully, the preparations were for a woodland defense and fight, so our army is armored lightly, to allow for quick and stealth movement through the dense forest trees. But our king does try to change the armor to better suit an open land war or siege. The Greenwood is ready to do what we can because just like you, our King realizes that peace will only be had with the defeat of Sauron. Oropher pledges to fight alongside that Noldor to ensure peace."

Thranduil noticed the transparent worry in the other's eyes and Gil-galad nodded respectfully to Thranduil. "Gladly I accept our Silvan brother's offer. You help our chance for victory with the skill or your archers and the heart of your people. It is not long now before we march to the east. I will hold a meeting with Oropher then, for much do I need to converse with him."

Gil-galad paused and he gave a gentle smile to Thranduil. "I personally want to thank you Thranduil, for your part in making this alliance happen. I recognize that you were an instrumental part of our first and important victory in this war."

Thranduil shook his head. "No. I had little part in that. It was Glorfindel who bore the brunt of my father's stubbornness. All I did was chip away at the cracks that he had already planted in my father's mind."

"Do you journey back soon to your kin?" Isildur asked.

"As much as I would like to return to my home, I know that I will not take that road until this war is over. My father's forces will march soon and he has bade me march with you to meet him in the camps of war. With your blessing, I will remain and ride under your banner until I am reunited with my people."

"You are more than welcome to stay and march with honor under my banner." Gil-galad responded.

"Gladly do I accept." Thranduil responded.

"Now that we have heard the news from the Greenwood, let us fill you in with the summary on what have discussed in these long years." Gil-galad turned the topic to their battle plans.

And for the rest of the day and for most of the evening, Gil- galad shared their developments with Thranduil, for there was much information that Thranduil had to be caught up on.

\------

Morning broke like the sound of a thunderous storm was bearing down on the valley of Imladris. But when Thranduil looked out from his small window, he was greeted with a clear and peaceful awaking morning. He scanned the horizon in wonderment, but the land was free of any storms. The very air around the valley held an electric vibe to it, as if the collective anticipation of what they gathered for seeped from the thousands of minds and into the very air and earth. It hummed in the wind that blew throughout the valley, singing like the strong emotion of excitement and might. Thranduil could not contain his curiosity, and he dressed and soon joined with Glorfindel who was heading out to the courtyard.

"More troops have arrived from Lindon to join in this fight." Glorfindel explained to Thranduil about what he had heard in this early morning. "And word is that Elendil has been able to convince some hold-outs with joining, and they will be joining us shortly. They now join the armies that are camped around this valley. And it is here that we all wait for the order to march to the east."

And just as Glorfindel had finished speaking his words, the horns of Elendil sounded in the distance. Loud and clear they pierced, summoning all to pay attention. Glorfindel smiled at Thranduil, motioning for him to follow him to the courtyard to await Elendil's arrival. Gil-galad, Elrond and Erestor were already present, and Isildur too was there, and his face showed that he eagerly awaited for his father's return.

Elendil arrived with the royal guard. Tall and grave they rode with the air of their might and strength. Thranduil watched as Gil-galad greeted King Elendil, who had dismounted from his horse. Thranduil noted just how tall, and strong this king was, and he felt his heart rise as he finally began to understand just how mighty their alliance would be. He mused that maybe even on seeing King Elendil, that Oropher would rethink his reluctance to march under Gil-galad's command. If such a mighty and strong king like Elendil would work with Gil-galad, Oropher would be a fool not to. Thranduil knew that Oropher's mind had been changed once, and he still had hope that Oropher could be swayed again.

Thranduil was brought out of his thoughts when he noticed that Elendil was regarding him. Thranduil nodded his greeting to him, understanding that Gil-galad had just informed their ally that the Silven armies now joined them. Elendil's face remained inscrutable, and Thranduil wondered if he too were displeased with the lateness of their agreement. But if any anger was to be had within Elendil, Thranduil could see none, for his stern eyes shone on him gently with the warmth of his greeting.

He followed alongside Glorfindel and entered back into the council room. Here their morning was spent in pre-war councils. And of the terrifying news that came from Anarion's scouts was word that the host of Sauron was millions of orcs, but that was not the most frightful yet. Nazgul, foul beasts, trolls, and men were under the command of the witch king and Sauron. It was evident to all that the forces they would be up against would be both terrible and mighty. But despite the strong and evil makeup up Suaron's armies, they all knew that failure could not come to pass. Danger would find them all, but if the fates would allow it, they would evade the plans of Sauron and would prevail. They doubted this not, for to fall into doubt now would doom their alliance before they even marched. In the end, they agreed that the time to go to war was now on them, and without delay they would make their march to the fields in the east. There they would unite with the final armies of their alliance, and together they would face the might of Sauron together.

Although the meeting ended with the anticipation of the great trials of war, Elrond smiled still, inviting the gathered to join him for just one last dinner. This night, they would celebrate in peace, just before the uncertain future may sunder that from them forever.

\-----

Evening came soon enough. This night, even though Thranduil was weary and the other leaders as well were laden with the weight of what reached for them, all gathered for the dinner, eager to unwind in the serenity of the peaceful valley. Many tables had been set up on a balcony and the delicate evening sky hung without any clouds above them. The evening was just about to break, and the evening stars were just about to shine their lights.

The mood was both somber, but yet, held hints of joy, for although they had been brought together on the eves of a great war, still they focused on what peace there was for them, even as Gondor was in battle.

Thranduil allowed himself to fall into ease, although he decided it was best to keep his distance from Glorfindel. For now at least, for he was stunning this night and Thranduil vowed no longer to let the desire that he felt burning for Glorfindel to overwhelm him. But still, his eyes revealed what his heart still harbored, even though he tried to hide behind a mask of indifference.

As if he knew that Thranduil battled something strong within, Gil-galad came to him, driven by his own curiosity of Oropher's mindset.

"It is good to have you back in the west again, Thranduil. The years have been long since you walked my halls in Lindon."

Thranduil smiled. "I have missed Lindon, and." His smile soon faded. "I have missed those who still dwell there." Thranduil responded with a lament in his voice.

  
"Your sister has happiness, take joy in that. Maybe once this war has ended, my eyes will see you in my halls again, if just for a visit. You are always welcome in my halls."

"I would like that, but only if my lord gives me leave."

Gil-galad smiled. "Yes, loyalty to home must come first, but remember, do not forsake the desires of your own soul. You were loved in Lindon, and I know that you enjoyed your life there. The Greenwood must be an enchanting place if it has replaced in your heart the splendor that is my home."

"It is, indeed. And I wish that you could see my forest home yourself." Thranduil sighed as his thoughts drifted back to Oropher. And though the night was peaceful, still a worry settled in his heart.

"Do not dwell on your frustrations. And though I had originally sought you out to discuss the matters of the Greenwood, I will not burden you further with it. I can read that a weariness is on you Thranduil."

As Gil-galad spoke, Thranduil let his eyes drift to Glorfindel. Glorfindel was beyond stunning this night; beautiful, mighty, noble and wise. His eyes shone with a light that Thranduil could never get enough of. And even though his heart shouldn't have longed for him, Thranduil just could not will his feelings to turn away from Glorfindel. 

Gil-galad's gentle laughter brought his gaze back to him. "Enchanting, is he not?"

Thranduil let his face fall into an inscrutable mask, or so he tried. He looked into Gil-galad's eyes, but he did not respond to his question.

"I thought that I was the only one who yearned this night, although it is not for Glorfindel for whom I would turn my eyes to. Instead, my eyes would linger on someone who to me, is ever just as charming. I had this other once, but like a fool, I let time and distance come between us. And now another would see to divide us. We share uncanny similarities, is this not so, Thranduil?"

Thranduil smiled as he let Gil-galad's words sink into his thoughts. He knew that Elrond had use to yearn with a fever for Gil-galad's affections, and that Gil-galad had returned his pinning with the toying of his heart. Gil-galad was the last person that Thranduil wanted to discuss the matters of the heart with.

Luckily for Thranduil, Elrond called for Gil-galad now, and with an apology, Gil-galad made his exit. Thranduil was relieved, and he exhaled as if to personify that his exasperation was finally over. But his solitude was short lived when Glorfindel sat next to him.

"Thranduil, the wine has been flowing for hours now, and I have not yet sought you out. You have my apologies." Glorfindel smiled to Thranduil. "We march soon to the east. Those days are now upon us, and still I wish we could linger under the starlight, and forgo the coming of the dawn."

Thranduil listened to Glorfindel's lament, and his memories crashed back to another place and time in which his heart had cried for the same want.

"Tomorrow always comes, for the better or for worst." Thranduil sighed. "I just lament that although I will greet that tomorrow with you, truth is, I will not. Aligned but divided, we will not fight as one…"

Thranduil stopped speaking and he laughed gently to Glorfindel. "The fates are cruel yet again, because ever would a divide come to define us, instead of what I would have wanted with you."

"Thranduil." Glorfindel sighed. "Still does my heart burn for you, but I will let those embers die. What we can not have in love, may we share instead in our eternal friendship?"

Thranduil's green eyes closed and he nodded. "Yes, friend I will be to you for the remainder of the years that the Valar grace to me, for your friendship is a precious gift to have." With saying those words, Thranduil felt a peace in his mind, but still, an empty void ached within.

Glorfindel hated the words they said now, but he knew that this was all that could come between Thranduil and himself. And as much as he wanted to speak with Thranduil, his heavy heart could just not make the small talk that was needed. 

Thranduil too, felt an unease wash over him, and Glorfindel's presence, which should have been comforting, was instead far too heavy, and was far too troubling for him. He didn't like how he felt with Glorfindel so near to him. This wasn't right, but this was all that they had now. He needed to escape, for his mind spun with his sadness and his disquiet. Thranduil abruptly stood, as he now only wanted to be alone for the rest of the night. Not even the good that was Glorfindel, could ease his spirit now. 

"I will take my leave now, and do so for the refuge of sleep. Until the morning, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel felt a lament cause his heart to grow cold, but he understood what caused Thranduil to leave. It was for the better, and with pained expression he nodded his farewell to his friend.

"Sweetest dreams, Thranduil, my dear friend." Glorfindel frowned more, as he watched Thranduil leave. Despite his want to embrace and comfort Thranduil, he knew he couldn't. Empty would his arms be this night.

Although the night was not too old, and the guests at the dinner still chatted in merriment, both Thranduil and Glorfindel had left the party. Elrond watched them leave, and he worried for them both.

\-------------------

The early morning was cool, as the fogs of autumn blanketed the valley. Winter would soon be approaching and like the soon to be slumbering land around them, the gathered were silent and heavy laden with the knowing that soon their world was about to forever change. Just outside the valley of Imladris, the great host of their alliance had been camped, and they were now ready for the march to the east to meet up with their Silvan brethren.

This day, they all would march, and Thranduil could feel the growing emotions that buzzed like a collective mindset from all the vast armies that were now gathered behind him. Countless they were, almost like the stars in the darkest of nights. Their force was both terrible and mighty, but even still, Thranduil knew that Sauron's host was more numerous. Soon would come their days of trial, and every single soldier understood just what they would be marching to.

Thranduil watched and listened to Gil-galad and Elendil address the armies, and he saw the great Narsil rise high in the air, signifying that their march to war had now begun. Under Gil-galad's banner, Thranduil rode alongside Glorfindel, into the east, heart full of hope, but also of a lingering dread that he just could not stifle.


	15. At the Corners of the World

It had been years since Glorfindel had traveled to the east from his home in Imladris. Now, instead of his solitary mission that had seen trials of deception, frustration, affection, and then ultimately success despite his initial failure, he rode out with the united banners of a free people who would no longer stand for the desecration of their lives by Sauron. It was a bittersweet feeling that he carried with him through the march from Imladris to the campgrounds that would link the final chains of their mighty alliance. The Sindarin Kings of the Silvan elves had finally pledged their alliance, and as their messages had stated, the vast armies were already camped in the east, and were awaiting their arrival.

The armies from the west had arrived to the camp when the strong sun had already made its decent into the long and distant horizon from where they had marched. Along their march, they had already been joined by a strong and valiant army led by Durin IV, and they had already engaged in a few battles along the way. The forces of Sauron already tried to hinder them, and everyone knew that their struggle would be mighty in the years to come.

Soon they would be united with Oropher's and Amdir's armies, and finally Gil-galad's vision of a mighty army would be realized. The combined armies of Lorien and Greenwood were camped together, and Glorfindel could see the banners of both woodland realms blowing gently against the soft blue sky. Soon the banners of Lindon and Imladris would fly alongside their eastern brethren, and together, they would finally free their lands from Sauron.

Somewhere within this expansive camp that they rode through was Oropher, and he was waiting for the arrival of the armies from the west. Glorfindel could feel his heart fill with the wonderment of what a reunion with Oropher would be like. He wondered if Oropher would look more kindly on him now, or if he would be greeted with those hard glacial eyes that he had learned to expect when he was a guest in the Greenwood. He wondered if Galion had as well came along to this war, since Thranduil had told him that he was a skilled archer himself. Glorfindel found that he very much desired to see Galion once more.

Glorfindel followed alongside Gil-galad, Elrond and the other leaders of the alliance through the camp until his eyes were once again staring into the cold hard depths that were Oropher's eyes. Thranduil, who had once been by his side, had silently moved to stand by Oropher, transferring back to take his place as one of the captains of the Greenwood. And when Glorfindel saw him leave, his heart felt sadness as he understood that Thranduil did not belong alongside him.

Oropher was courteous enough to invite the leaders into his command tent, and Glorfindel entered into it. He saw that Amdir was already present in the tent, as he would lead Lorien, who also had joined their alliance.

The tent itself was just large enough to accommodate no more than fifteen elves or men, but it was cozy enough, and it kept the dusty air from blowing over them. On the the walls of the tents hung the banners of the Greenwood, and lanterns glowed with a warm and inviting hue, and the ground was covered with sturdy rugs. Oropher bade them sit on the chairs that were placed within a circle, and beside the chairs was a table that held a map. Glorfindel could see that many marks were already made on the map, and he instantly knew that Oropher had already been making his own battle plans.

To Glorfindel's surprise, Oropher greeted him with kind and gentle eyes, and he spoke to him before he addressed the others.

"I am glad to see you again, Lord Glorfindel, for your words rang in my heart until I had to march. The Greenwood does have an obligation in this fight against Sauron, and you were instrumental in bringing that message to us."

The words made Glorfindel's heart lift, and he felt a sort of vindication for all the trials that he had faced in the Greenwood. For here Oropher was, and around him was his vast armies, as well as the armies from Lorien. But there was still a disquiet in his mind, for he knew that Oropher would not work with them, and following Oropher's lead, Lorien too would remain divided from them. He could not still his worry, even though he tried his best to stifle what grew within his mind.

Oropher turned his gaze to Gil-galad and Elendil who stood beside Glorfindel. "By now, you must have heard of my resolve to remain as an independent army. I make no vow to recognize either of your authorities. Both Amdir and I will not take council in your plans, nor will we heed your command. This is all that I will say to you." Ever true to his character, Oropher got right to the point without bothering with further pleasantries.

Gil-galad frowned and he shook his head. "I beseech that you reconsider, Oropher. There are ill-tidings that will come because of this path that you turn to."

"Ill-tidings!" Oropher snapped in his annoyance to Gil-galad's words. "Ill-tidings will come at us on the wings of the Nazgul and with an orc host millions strong! This is not the time for me to wane in weakness and turn to my adversaries to deliver my people to victory. We may march with you and fight our common enemy, but that will ever be the extent of our alliance."

Elendil only turned his gaze to Gil-galad, and his face clearly conveyed that he disapproved of Oropher and Amdir's decision. But he held his tongue and looked to Gil-galad to handle the matters of the elves. 

Gil-galad's eyes were equally as hard as Oropher's, but he kept his silence, understanding that Oropher's stubborn biases would cloud the reasoning of his judgement. There was little that he could do to bring Oropher to reason, and to fight with Oropher now could lessen other chances that he might have to try to convince Oropher to change his mind. Gil-galad understood that this was not the time for words that he may later come to regret.

"I recognize your sovereignty and I have no authority to stop you. But in the end, the tears and blood of your people will be on your hands alone."

"That will be my fate, as well as yours, Gil-galad. And with all that I can give to you as a blessing, I do say, may we be victorious over evil, and in the end may we meet on the fields of our hard won peace, where once again we may go our separate ways to live our lives on our own accord."

Gil-galad inclined his head respectfully to Oropher. "May you and your people go with my blessing as well. And also do I wish that we do meet again when Sauron has been conquered and his shadow has diminished to nothing but a distant memory."

And with his final words, Gil-galad and Elendil both stood to leave. Both Thranduil and Glorfindel frowned, for they had not yet given up on their hope that Oropher would reconsider and their armies would fight together as one. But it was painfully evident that this would never happen. Glorfindel watched as Gil-galad, Elendil and Elrond left to return to their own armies, and feeling no further welcome from Oropher, he turned to leave as well. He turned back to look at Thranduil, and he wondered if he would follow him, or remain behind with  his father.

Glorfindel saw that reflection of dread deep within Thranduil's eyes as his deepest fears were finally being realized. Although the Greenwood was now aligned in this fight, they were still isolated, and were under the command of a King who would not work with Gil-galad. Oropher's armies were less prepared, less armored, and under the command of a spiteful king who would listen to no reason. And Glorfindel worried for them. He hoped their shared fears would not be as devastating as the dread that they felt deep within their hearts. But instead of dwelling on the dread that ached within his heart, Glorfindel reminded himself that still there was hope, and still perhaps, Oropher would see the errors of his way.

Thranduil watched the others leave and without thinking he left his father's tent, as if to follow Glorfindel. But then he stopped, and he stood like a statue of cold and silent stone. He was not sure if he should remain with his father's armies, or if he should take council with the others. He let his eyes look into Glorfindel's, and although their eyes met, neither spoke, for there was little for them to say in this moment.

Glorfindel could feel both of their hearts breaking, for there was no turning back now. War was on them and now the only thing they could do was to fight as valiantly as possible, and look to hope for the victory over Sauron. Maybe then, Thranduil and he could reunite again in happier times.

Without a glance or word back to Thranduil, Glorfindel turned and walked back to his own army. The divide between them seemed stronger than ever before, although this was not the fate that either of them wanted. But this was the bitter reality that was now laid bare to them, like the stark and barren fields that opened up around them. United but divided, their worlds had collided like a a violent storm, but yet the winds of change howled on as yet more trials were just on the horizon that would keep them apart.

And when Glorfindel turned back for one last glance at Thranduil, he saw that the crowds had swallowed his view of him. Glorfindel sighed, and he could feel his new emotions envelope that old and bittersweet love that he still harbored for Thranduil. The real and present time of war was stronger than any other thought that burned within, and he closed his eyes, as he forced out the lingering want that he had for Thranduil. Glorfindel knew that it was only war that he should focus on. Love was not a privilege to have during times of war. 

Perhaps in another time or age, when the fates were finally aligned for them both, then maybe he and Thranduil would come to know once more the full extent of their love. Was it simply friendship or something more that he wanted? Glorfindel could not say. But for now, he cared not to focus on his emotions of the one who had done to his heart what no one else had done before.

It was just as well, as he knew that a wall had come between them, for it was expansive and high, it would keep them divided. And Glorfindel turned his eyes to the arriving eventide, and he wondered just what would great them with the coming of the dawn of war. 

And Glorfindel sat alone as Anor dipped beneath the horizon and the dark of the eastern night canopied the lands under a starless night. He knew he should be with the other captains while they set up camp, but the desire that he had for his silent reflection was simply stronger.

Suddenly Glorfindel turned around and Thranduil was standing there, his silver-hair dark under the shadow of the night, and eyes burned with the light from the campfires. Glorfindel smiled to Thranduil with inviting eyes to join him, but Thranduil did not walk towards him, nor did he offer any words to him. Instead he seemed as if he said a silent valediction, and his eyes only closed as he made no effort to walk towards him.

And Glorfindel understood just what Thranduil was doing. To allow Thranduil to linger in his heart would be both foolish and dangerous, for it was a distraction that was not needed when war did find them. Glorfindel returned the valediction back to him, and he smiled as he watched Thranduil disappear into the night.

 

/The end.


End file.
